


Honeyed Looks

by Talik_Sanis



Series: A Delicate Balance of Flavours - An Adrigaminette Series [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrigaminette, Anxiety Disorder, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Bad Parent Tomoe Tsurugi, Badass Kagami Tsurugi, Bee Kagami Tsurugi, Bisexual Kagami Tsurugi, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Closeted Character, Confused Kagami Tsurugi, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Dorks in Love, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Humor to angst to healing, IDENTITY SHENANIGANS, Identity Porn, Jealous Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Jealous Marinette Dupain-Cheng, LGBTQ Character, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Needs a Break, Misunderstandings, Multi, Original Akuma, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Puns & Word Play, Secret Relationship, Sleep Deprived Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Soft and loving poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24038797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talik_Sanis/pseuds/Talik_Sanis
Summary: After much deliberation, Marinette Dupain Cheng and Adrien Agreste are dating Kagami Tsurugi and each other. Chat Noir and Ladybug are not, and Kagami is confused by these two dorks.The stress of Guardianship, jealousy, akuma attacks, and the necessity of keeping their relationship a secret from everyone, especially Tomoe and Gabriel, may be too much for Marinette, who's nearly at her breaking point...
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi
Series: A Delicate Balance of Flavours - An Adrigaminette Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682845
Comments: 219
Kudos: 342
Collections: A Delicate Balance of Flavors - An Adrigaminette Series (without the Explicit ones) written by Talik_Sanis





	1. I hate to butt in.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien admires his girlfriend while she is in the midst of a battle. Much to his chagrin, so does Ladybug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend that you read the[ initial, short reimagining of the Adrigaminette Polyamorous ice cream date, "A Delicate Balance of Flavours,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043319) the first part of this series. It is not necessary reading, but it is fluffy, establishing that the triad chose their own set of flavours, rather than accepting those that were imposed on them, and found that they worked well together. It led to an exploration of a potential relationship between them.

Adrien tried, in accordance with his father's expectations and his own inclinations, to be a gentleman. His puns never strayed into the debased or lewd, and he strove to be respectful, particularly to his elders and the girls he loved. Despite his best efforts, however, he found that he was forced to admit it.

Mitsubachi had a _really_ great butt.

A firm, taut, black-and-yellow stripy butt.

An "it could cause car accidents from rubber-necking as she vaulted between buildings across the Parisian traffic-ways" butt.

An "I know that I am on patrol and should really be focused wholly on my duties but _butt_ " butt.

Okay, he had to stop now...

Chat Noir was not a disloyal kitty now that he had been adopted into a loving “home;” he was a stray tomcat no longer; no more prowling rooftops and yowling at the stars in search of companionship and warmth. Had Ladybug not come to him three weeks ago and, as Guardian, solicited his opinion on a potential new wielder for the Bee miraculous in light of Hawkmoth's increasingly challenging Akuma, Adrien would have been lambasting himself for his wayward gaze. 

But, no. Instead, he had _thrilled_ at the suggestion that Kagami be offered the Bee miraculous. Imagine the exhilaration of parkouring over city roofs with at least one of your girlfriends by your side, even if she didn't know it! How could he have refused? And, even if he had moved on, he preened ever-so-slightly at Ladybug's affirmation – her willingness to include him in decisions regarding the miraculous now that he had become more level-headed in his interactions with her, no longer focused on “earning” her love or winning it.

In retrospect: cringe.

That was his father again.

Marinette had told him to his face, though there was a pointed look in Kagami's direction that left the Japanese girl stunned as well: “I love you. You _never_ have to earn love, and no one should make you feel like you have to.”

It was a good thing that he and Kagami had fallen for each other first. If not, one of their fencing matches probably would have devolved into a duel to the death for the hand of a certain sublime princess. A noble way to meet his end, fit for the culmination of the epic romance of a Romeo or Troilus, but he preferred being sandwiched between his girlfriends on a semi-regular basis.

It seemed that Ladybug and Chat Noir's professional relationship had blossomed in light of the reciprocation of their respective civilian crushes. The mysterious boy over whom Ladybug had been pining finally came to his senses, and, on Ladybug's revelation to that effect, Chat had confessed that he too had found a girlfriend. Which was technically true. He had also found a second girlfriend who was also his first girlfriend's girlfriend, but Ladybug didn't need to know all the details.

Unfortunately, though she was including him in decision-making to some extent, Ladybug had, in no uncertain terms, refused to offer the Mouse Miraculous to Marinette. None of his protestations, or well-reasoned if slightly whinny arguments weakened Ladybug's resolve. It really made no sense. If he could be trusted with knowing Mitsubachi's identity, what was so different about Multimouse? Mouse, cat, and bug all lounging on a rooftop in the middle of a cool Parisian night, Multimouse having redeemed Mitsubachi and Chat from their respective isolated misery, cuddled up with hot cocoa and leftover pastries from the Dupain-Chang bakery as they swapped warmth and sweet-nothings?

Heaven.

Heck, Ladybug could join them too.

For the cocoa. The pastries and cuddles were his.

Well. Probably best that she not. That was getting into harem anime territory.

And he already had both his hands and his heart full with _two_ girls who could kick his butt clear across the Atlantic ocean.

Speaking of which...

Feinting a low arching sweep with her trompo that had Power Creep stumbling to the side, Mitsubachi lunged forward to deliver a spinning roundhouse kick to his exposed face.

Ryuko had been a powerhouse, direct, crashing through obstacles without hesitation while shrugging off blows; Mitsubachi was light on her feet, airy and fast, but used her grace and agility to land devastating, precise strikes.

Float like a butterfly; sting like a bee.

God, she was gorgeous. He nearly sighed at the sight of her dislocating Power Creep's jaw. Not the time, but come on, now! He was a teenage boy in a high-adrenaline situation next to his magical-spandex-clad, very fit, and _very_ hot girlfriend.

Also, he might have a thing for dominant women.

He frowned atop his perch, just outside of the fray. Interesting revelation, but _definitely_ not the time.

Hawkmoth's latest Akuma had been forged from the raw material of a rather overbearing and somewhat skeevy teen who had lost in a collectible card game tournament. Apparently, his opponent had access to the yet-to-be-released but still tournament legal exclusive cards from the upcoming set, which gave him an advantage. The runner-up in their tournament was now a hulking brute who slavered and gazed at Ladybug and his Honey with unabashed lechery.

It was enough to make Adrien sick over his own wandering eye, but at least he had the privilege of appreciating Mitsubachi's form honestly. He was her boyfriend, even if she didn't know it, and she had welcomed the attention when they were unmasked.

The longer that he and Ladybug had battled the originally scrawny, though wily, villain, the larger he became and the more forcefully his blows landed. His costume was now stretched taut over his robust, though pale, form, making it an even more egregious fashion designer's nightmare. It set Chat's teeth on edge and likely would have had his father putting out his own eyes like Oedipus, unable to stand the sight before him: “You have seen those you never should have looked upon. So now and for all future time be dark!"

Cue eye gouging.

It was the stuff of tragedy, alright.

Armour consisting of what appeared to be innumerable flexible, garish trading cards, all of which were reflective foil versions, covered him from neck to ankles, leaving only his hands and head exposed. The latter was mostly concealed by a lengthy mop of matted, greasy black hair that swished back and forth, allowing periodic glimpses of his leering grin.

Mitsubachi had the brute on the ropes, though, weaving around his heavy blows, only to land pin-point strikes with her trompo as she held off on using Venom in order to give Ladybug even more time to strategize and locate the Akumatized object. Lumbering forward, Power Creep shattered the pavement in front of him with another shuddering two-fisted slam, Mitsubachi catching the side of his arm on the downward pass in order to swing into a crouch atop his massive forearm, dodging the uncoordinated assault. The blow-back from his strike sent concrete shards flying about her and blasted the fuzzy golden fringe at her neck into a majestic halo about her head.

Yep. Gorgeous. And pretty damn cool-looking in Chat's opinion.

She sat there, hunched for just a single moment, gaze locked with the pair of slanted eyes that were exposed by the explosive gust of dusty air that tussled Power Creep's hair.

She favoured the off-balance Power Creep with that characteristic little smirk that only appeared when she was behind one of her masks, or when she felt it was safe to be honest, before driving upwards, her knee catching the Akuma directly in his nose.

The crunch of bone was audible to Chat Noir only by virtue of his enhanced hearing as it was all but drowned out by Power Creep's scream of outrage.

Not to be entirely outdone by his girlfriend – because really, she was making him look bad – Chat dropped from his perch atop a nearby lamppost to bring his baton crashing into the side of Power Creep's head as Mitsubachi continued onward, somersaulting both of them in a perfectly-timed synchronized pincer maneuver the like of which it had taken Ladybug and Chat months to master.

All those hours of fencing practice together had them operating as a unit on pure instinct, even though Kagami was unaware of his identity.

There was just one problem: that _butt_.

But it wasn't _his_ problem.

He had mastered his fixation on his partner's appealing attributes when in combat as he had a tremendous amount of experience doing so while partnered with Ladybug. There was something to be said for trans _fur_ able skills.

Ladybug herself, however...

She had stood on a nearby rooftop, observing the conflict between the trio with her typical strategist's eye, focused and calculating.

Or she had been, but for just a second, Chat saw it: her gaze being drawn away from the massive creature, and the opening the cat and bee had provided, by Mitsubachi's passing form and the smooth expanse of her back and rear on full display in its skin-tight stripy spandex.

A flicker of spite and jealous rage licked at his gut, but he squashed it down along with the surprise that came from learning that the heroine of Paris appreciated his girlfriend's feminine charms as much as he did. And then Ladybug was in motion, swinging down to snatch the small trading card, the only one that was _not_ a holo-foil, that had served as something akin to Power Creep's belt buckle.

One quick and efficient cleansing and miraculous cure later, and the streets of Paris were once again safe.

For the most part.

Ladybug “bugged out” (and she said that she hated his puns) to recharge.

Mitsubachi departed almost immediately as well, offering only a simple salute to her teammates. It was rather cold, but he couldn't blame her in light of the fact that she had no idea who he was.

Kagami had told “Adrien” earlier in the day that she had a scheduled meeting with her mother in which they would discuss her latest fencing performances. He expected a call this evening from his girlfriend. She would almost certainly be as close to frustrated tears as she ever came. Not for the first time, he wished that she and Mari knew his identity so Chat Noir could sneak Kagami out of her home and into Marinette's attic room so all three of them could curl up for some much-needed kitty cuddles.

No wonder she had taken such perverse delight in whaling away on Power Creep.

Adrien, the only member of the trio remaining, had words with the Akuma victim, who had returned to a portly, though quite minuscule, figure. While his hair was now shoulder-length, it appeared rather similar to that of Power Creep. Chat Noir was known for his light touch with Akuma victims, but he may have been a little bit harsher than usual while discussing sportsmanship and gentlemanly conduct towards women.

The incident with Ladybug's wandering eyes had been forgotten.

Until the next patrol on which Mitsubachi joined them. That was when things got... complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting out rather light, but life is going to begin to pile stresses atop the shoulders of our triad.


	2. Bee puns aren't that great. I don't get what all the buzz is about.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir awaits the arrival of Ladybug with Mitsubachi and the trio head out for a scheduled patrol.
> 
> A stressed Mitsubachi is befuddled and amused by Adrien's "chatnanigans."

Chat Noir, like "Mitsubachi," almost always arrived early to team meetings or patrols. Oftentimes, the excursions devolved into little more than a thin excuse for a series of sparring matches, particularly now due to Mitsubachi's competitive streak, or games of tag and races – a chance to let off some of the nervous energy that had accumulated over the course of the day.

The source of that frustration and repression was clear enough in Adrien and Kagami's lives, but he did wonder about Ladybug's civilian identity.

Chat Noir rose from his perch to scan the skyline beyond him, though this building was no Eiffel tower lookout. Paris was far less interesting when you were seated in the middle of it than when you were examining it from far off, and he thought, in one petulant moment, that, like the city, their lives looked wondrous from the outside – from a distance.

Freedom was the greatest gift that Adrien could have ever thought to offer Kagami, and he could never thank Ladybug enough for the chance to do so.

Actually, "freedom" was the second best gift.

He'd gladly have accepted the schedules, the punishing workout regimes and advanced lessons, the unreasoning expectations, all manner of rigidly-controlled photo shoots, gradual water-loading followed by dehydration and dry saunas for the best muscle definition, and the constant isolation even when surrounded by other employees.

He would have embraced his nightmare and welded bars onto his own bedroom windows.

He would have done all that and _more_ if his father loved him.

Love outstripped everything else. If you didn't have love, you didn't have anything.

What was that about stone walls and iron bars to a man free in love? Natalie would scold him for failing to remember the full stanza. The idea needled at the back of his brain, forcing him to flip open his baton to track down the source. The first hit on google was-

“Hello, Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir nearly dropped his baton in shock and his tail snapped to attention as he leapt around to face the soft voice, only to find Mitsubachi staring at him.

Her eyebrows were arched upwards in an expression of surprise, making her face appear even more angular than it would normally. The “Mitsubachi” costume was slightly more robust and militaristic than that of Queen Bee, though it also sported a fuzzy yellow neck piece and cuffs.

“Heyya, Honey, what's the buzz?” Chat chirped, trying as best as possible to cover his overreaction.

“Ladybug still has yet to arrive?” she inquired as she spooled up her trompo and attached it to her hip.

“'fraid not, Mitsu. It's just the two of us, as usual." He gestured towards the edge of the building, inviting her to sit down.

“Unfortunate.” She settled into place a respectable distance from him, to his slight disappointment, and leaned back, placing her hands behind her to lean up and stare into the sky, hazy with light pollution.

While others may not have noticed, months of fencing practice and, more recently, dating made the stoop of her shoulders and subtle vocal inflections stand out. She always lost their matches on days when she looked and sounded like _this_ because the last thing that you needed to help you “keep your head in the game” before a match was a verbal reaming by your mother.

Or your father, as the case may be.

“What, am I not good enough for you, honey-bee?” he jibed as he collapsed next to her, laying out in that boneless way only a cat could.

“Why would I want only one member of the Parisian super-hero duo?”

That was certainly his Kagami. No half measures. He nearly snorted as he stroked a hand through his wild hair.

“That is a good point,” Chat conceded. “It's like having the peanut butter without the honey. Sure, it's good, but it's one condiment short of a full sandwich.”

“I ... suppose that's one way of putting it." Slow, measured - like she was trying to process. The look on her face was now wavering towards confusion.

“Of course, it's more like a sandwich without the bread,” he purred up at her.

“I am not certain that I understand your metaphor.”

“Well, it's like this. With you on the team, we have the peanut butter: me.” He tapped his chest with his baton before rolling to his side, propping up his head with his hand. “I'm rich and smooth, just like peanut butter.”

“That seems to be a strained analogy,” she replied, pulling out her trompo and turning it slowly in her hands.

“Run with it,” he encouraged with a wink.

“Hm.”

“Then there's you.” He waved his free hand, indicating her entire form. “The honey, obviously. A sweet counterpoint to the thick, savoury peanut butter.”

“Whatever have I done to make you believe that I'm _sweet_?” she asked after a moment, mouthing the word as if it tasted funny, and he repressed a snort and gentle smile. Got to keep up that cocky, ridiculous grin.

“I would think that it would be quite the opposite in light of what you saw of me when we fought Ikari Gozen.”  
  
“Just a feeling,” he said before pursing his lips together and nodding sagely, which he knew actually looked ridiculous because he was still resting with his cheek against his balled fist. “Cats have very good instincts, don't you know?”

“When in the wild, their hunting instincts make them capable predators, but,” she paused and pointed to his bell, “you seem to be a house cat.”

“Hey, you can take the cat out of the wild, but you can't take the wild out of the cat!”

“That sounds like a dreadful cliche.”

“Well I- hey!” he exclaimed with an exaggerated, judging frown. “You're just trying to distract me from my elaborate, genius metaphor!”

“Failing, sadly,” she sighed as if her favorite professional fencer had just tripped on her way to the piste.

“As I was saying, Ladybug is the bread.” He punctuated the assertion with a swift chopping motion of his free hand as he struggled to keep a sagacious look on his face. “A little dry sometimes, but also capable of being fluffy and soft, always holding everything together so that you can enjoy that perfect mixture of honey and peanut butter.”

“Did you come up with this on the spot,” Mitsubachi queried and cupped her chin in her palm while drumming her fingers across her cheek, “or is this what you actually devote time to thinking about regularly?”

“I didn't even have to think about it.”

“That much is clear.”

“It just comes naturally,” he boasted, splaying his free hand over his heart in a gesture of mock sincerity. Also, he may have been flexing. Just a little.

“Rather terrifying,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

“I know. My intellect is simply staggering. I can see how it might be frightening.”

“Ugh,” Mitsubachi groaned softly.

“So, now that you know how the genius Chat Noir thinks, what about you, Honey? What's on your mind this beautiful evening?”

Bending forward and pulling a knee to her chest, his girlfriend glared down at the light traffic and pedestrians below them, milling about on their evening excursions. That distant, slack mask that _was_ her face sent a pang through his heart. In the past, it had taken only some gentle prodding to encourage her to disclose whatever it was that had left that waxy, dull expression, but that was when he was “Adrien.”

“Very little, Chat Noir,” she deflected. “Nothing of any real significance happened today. I merely continued to practice my swordsmanship.”

Right. Even if the reality hurt, there was no reason for her to speak to Chat Noir.

Marinette was getting a call from her boyfriend tonight, and then Kagami from both her boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Say, Mitsu, do you think you could do me a favour?” he asked suddenly as he rolled up into a sitting position

“What is that?” she asked dubiously. If she was surprised by the rapid change of direction, she didn't show it.

“Could you take a look in my eye. It feels as if I've got something in there and it's driving me nuts.” His voice lilted upwards in a plaintive whine and he tapped a clawed fingertip to his cheek, just below his right eye, while offering her the best “sad kitten expression” that he could muster.

It never failed him with Marinette, but Kagami had proven somewhat more resistant to his charms, largely because she was less apt to put up with his – or rather Adrien's – crap.

He extended his hand to her, and, though her wary glance shifted from his outstretched fingers to what he hoped was his most earnest expression and back again, she took it and allowed him to haul her to her feet. If he used the opportunity to maneuver her so that she rose to stand just a little bit too close to him, well, who could blame him?

“You do know that the lenses of your mask would prevent you from removing whatever it is, right?” she said bluntly.

An excited, playful growl rumbled in his chest, and he tightened his grip slightly while he snapped the clawed fingers of his free hand.

“I've got it! I know what it is!” he exclaimed in boyish excitement.

“What?”  
  
“It's beauty!” he barked, eagerness distorting what he had hoped would be a semi-seductive and purely playful purr into something more akin to the yip of a puppy.

 _Beetrayal!_ he could almost hear Plagg squawk in the back of his mind.

“You...” She quirked her head to the side, jaw pressing lightly into the fuzzy collar-piece that encircled her neck. “You have beauty in your eye?”

“Of course!” With that, he smoothly raised her hand to his lips and pressed a gentlemanly kiss to her fingertips. The light blush and awkward, rapid motion of her eyes was so alien to his normally smooth and coolly-confident girlfriend that he nearly broke and kissed her right then and there.

Having her _yeet_ him off the rooftop might just have been worth it.

The hand in his, despite the sticky, padded gloves between them, felt warm as he squeezed gently, fingers locking. “Beauty is in the eye of the bee-holder,” he finished with a wink.

For a moment, it almost seemed as if she didn't quite understand what he had said. A second ticked by as Adrien felt himself grin uncontrollably and cast her what he knew to be the eager expression of a child on Christmas morning, waiting to unwrap the mountain of presents under the tree – at least it was the expression that he had seen on television. 

And then, just as he allowed himself to listen to that little voice that was telling him that he was a fool for trying and that she could only laugh at Adrien's jokes because he was _Adrien_ , a slow and ever-so-subtle smile crossed her face and she reached out to pat his shoulder.

As her hand slipped from his grasp she paused, her gaze trailing downward. With a deft twist of her wrist, she flicked the gaudy golden bell that hung heavy on his collar, the clear, high-pitched jingle ringing out into the relatively quiet Parisian night.

It almost had him laughing and salivating at once. Pavlov's cat.

“You are a very strange man, Chat Noir,” she huffed as she withdrew completely.

“Oh, Honey, you wound me!” Chat whimpered and slapped the back of his hand to his forehead as if he was about to have the vapours and collapse into a judiciously-placed fainting couch like a waifish Victorian maiden. “And the worst part is that I have allergies. Your sting is sure to have me breaking out in _hives_.”

“That sounds serious,” Mitsubachi deadpanned. Trompo in hand almost instantly, she turned from him and made a bee-line for the edge of the roof on which they were standing. “Before your throat closes up, I had better leave and purchase an antihistamine.”

“Come, on Mitsu. Don't be a cry bay-bee. Can't you take a joke?” he prodded because he didn't know what else to do and chasing after her because she was walking _away_. 

Before she could coil up and judge the distance for a spinning leap into the Parisian night, he caught her by the forearm. She twisted to face him, and she was just... so _close_. The odours of the city wafted up around them, exhaust and the mingled scents of a myriad of human bodies. Cutting through it all, though, was Kagami and “Bee” - a strange melange of her natural musk hidden under a pungent rosemary body-wash, made alive with the magic of the miraculous that introduced a rich, natural floral bouquet.

“Hey, I'm sorry,” he said, and he hated himself because in that moment, he realized that it was the same voice that used to use to apologize to his father. 

“Why are you apologizing?” she responded immediately, her face wrinkling up cutely. “I thought that we were just joking.”

Of course they were. She didn't need to take her time while overlooking the city from her perch. Of course she didn't really need to judge the distance.

It was just teasing in kind.

She didn't actually want to... _leave_. She wasn't going to leave him alone.

God, he was pathetic.

“Did I misinterpret something?” she began somewhat hesitantly in light, he realized, of his lingering gaze and strained silence. “I ... tend to do that sometimes. Like my boyfriend, I don't always read social cues properly.”

Indeed; he had been doing that just now.

“No. No, Mitsu. You're fine,” he reassured with a gentle squeeze of her wrist, the fluff deforming under his fingers. "Trust me."

“Oh. Good,” she murmured after a moment's hesitation staring into his face. She squirmed lightly as he moved his hand to her shoulder in silent encouragement to continue. “To be honest, I am not certain at times.”

“Please don't be afraid to ask,” he soothed with a warm smile. “Or to tell me if something's wrong. You're part of the team, and partners support each-other. Life is a team-sport, after all.”

Her eyes raised to meet his, and the unreadable expression was enough to have him licking his lips. His hands suddenly felt sweaty inside of his normally temperature-controlled gloves that, like the rest of his costume, typically prevented him from feeling either too hot or too cold.

It was entirely too hot, now.

“Am I _interrupting_ something?” The slightly snarled question did exactly that, drawing Chat form his reverie and the contemplation of Kagami's complexion. He leapt backwards as if stung, releasing his hold on her, and jerked around.

There, arms folded over her chest, her legs set apart in something akin to the stance she adopted before leaping into the fray of an akuma battle, was a deeply scowling Ladybug.

“You know that we don't go on patrol to socialize,” she chastised with a strange surly expression that he had _never_ seen before, even in the early days when he was shirking his responsibilities and distracting “his lady” with puns and flirts during the middle of a battle. “We have a responsibility to the city and all its citizens, and you can't just treat everything like a joke, Chat.”

Chat was left in stunned silence. Since when was patrol such 'serious business'? Just last Sunday, Ladybug herself had challenged Kagami to a race to the top of the Eiffel tower. “Serious” Ladybug hadn't shown up since ... well, it had been quite a while now. 

“My apologies, Ladybug;” Mitsubachi began, turning her chin upwards in a slightly haughty gesture, “however if patrol is so vitally important, perhaps you should show due respect to it and our time by arriving on schedule.”

Chat nearly winced at that, and Ladybug _did_. The accusation was not ... entirely wrong, but his Honey did have a rather brutal sting on occasion. No hesitation; go for the kill.

It still wasn't fair, though. They had no idea what her personal life was like. Just as she had no right to judge them for wanting to “play” in light of the civilian lives she knew nothing about, they had no right to judge her tardiness. Marinette had taught him that in light of her lack of punctuality. She was in a mad scramble almost all of the time, and was late to almost _everything_ , simply because she took on too many responsibilities as class representative, fashion-designer, friend, girlfriend, bakery-worker, and much, much more.

Who knew what burdens Ladybug herself was under?

Under normal circumstances, he would have expected the spotted-super-heroine to throw back a retort, which might have caused the conversation to devolve into a series of snipes between the two women who were a little too fiery and obstinate for their own good at times.

Much to his shock, though, Ladybug relented with a slight shudder, averting her eyes from his girlfriend as if cowed and shamed.

Leaping forward to place himself between his steely-eyed girlfriend and his partner, who was all-but literally withering under Mitsu's harsh glare, he tried desperately to salvage the playful mood that they had been cultivating through their many recent patrols.  
  
“Come on, ladies. We're the heroes of Paris!” He waved a hand across the glittering expanse of the city surrounding them. “Our adoring public awaits our appearance so let's not disappoint them. Who knows what might bee-fall them in a city abuzz with evil.”

Not his best work, but it seemed to do the trick. 

A somewhat mollified though still indignant Mitsubachi and an abashed Ladybug joined him, though he found it odd when Ladybug quietly asked his civilian girlfriend to take the lead on this patrol, allowing the two more experienced heroes to hold back and observe her technique and progress.

The patrol was almost entirely uneventful, and Chat used the time to train his enhanced night-vision and sensitive ears towards his partners, assessing them.

Ladybug spent the patrol in a strange funk, her emotional state and attention wrenching back and forth almost at random. She would gaze at Mitsu for long moments with an undefinable expression before seeming to mentally slap herself and refocus on the patrol route, only to turn her gaze onto Chat, forcing him to studiously avert his attention from her, or at least, to make it appear that he was doing so, even as he noted the slight frowns that she threw in his direction. Then the cycle would repeat.

Mitsu seemed almost entirely unaware of the tension behind her. She was clearly trying to impress them, to prove that she deserved the miraculous that had been granted to her on a regular basis, scouring alleyways for potential minor crimes while setting a rather brutal pace to run a grid-line precise patrol that put his lackadaisical approach to shame.

Said patrol ended in record time thanks to Mitsubachi's alacrity and ruthless efficiency, and the complete lack of any of the levity or playfulness that typically made “patrol“ a worthwhile escape in Chat's opinion.

As they parted ways that evening, Chat had faded back into the dark shadows of a radiator and cooling unit atop the building to give the two women space. They did not disappoint.

Still focusing his attention on Ladybug, he noted the almost palpable sense of relief that she exuded when Mitsubachi offered her a stilted, but, he knew, entirely genuine apology for her harshness.

The spotted heroine responded in kind, devolving into a nearly babbling mess as she stuttered and stumbled through an apology of her own before turning towards his nearly-radiant green eyes, the only part of him that he believed visible in the dark corner into which he had slunk, to offer him a somewhat halfhearted, “I'm sorry, Chat.”

Wait a _kitten_ -picking minute.

“Chat Noir, thank you for our earlier conversation,” Mitsubachi said, turning to nod in his direction, the sincerity of her expression distracting him from his thoughts momentarily. “If ever you have the chance, I should introduce you to my boyfriend. I believe that you would enjoy each-other's company.”

Yeah. Right.

“May you have a pleasant evening,” she finished.

Both heroines bid each-other a quick goodnight, and Mitsubachi took to the air, the thin wire of her trompo coiling around a flagpole, as she arched low over the street below before using her momentum to soar above them, heading towards the Tsurugi estate.

Ladybug, on the other hand, paused to watch his Honey leave, her chest inflating and deflating slowly with several drawn-out breathes. And there, on her face, visible due to his natural night vision, was a slight tint of colour.

No. Way.

“Listen, Chat,” she began at last after she seemed to have lost interest in Mitsubachi's rapidly disappearing figure.

The darkness around him was more than welcome as it concealed his drooping jaw.

“I _am_ sorry. I shouldn't have been so hard on you, but please remember that Mitsu doesn't have a lot of experience.” Her head shook, slow and sad. “She can take things the wrong way, and that's the last thing that she needs in her life.”

“Uh, sure thing, Ladybug,” he mumbled from his corner of the roof.

While it was rare for her to smile at him in the way she used to, now that they were both in relationships, that only made the gentle expression on her face all the more endearing.

“You're a good kitty, Chat,” she affirmed, pulling her yo-yo from her side and spinning it experimentally. “I know that both Mistu and I can trust you.”

And with that, she was off, swinging building to building, fluid and graceful.

The cool metal of the radiator behind him pressed into the back of his scalp as he slid to the ground, legs no longer quite stable, and passed a hand under his bangs to massage his forehead slowly, just above the edges of his mask. His face was slack and blank, much as it had been weeks ago when Kagami had bluntly informed him that it was _obvious_ that Marinette was in love with him.

The direction of Ladybug's gaze. The flushed cheeks.

Ladybug had been staring at his girlfriend's butt. _Again!_

The stumbling incoherence.

That was exactly how Marinette responded to Adrien, and continued to do so on occasion even now.

The emotional impact of Mitsubachi's censure.

Giving Kagami a miraculous on a permanent basis, which Ladybug had never done before. He had thought it simply due to the fact that she was Guardian now, and had determined to forge her own path, to establish new norms that worked for her.

Now, it all made sense.

Ladybug had a crush on Kagami.

Because who wouldn't?

And that smile, earnest and proud as she looked him over...

He rubbed the back of his neck before launching off into the night, using his baton to vault himself over the roof of the adjoining building.

Okay. Maybe he wasn't exactly over her _entirely_.

“Oh, boy,” he groaned softly to himself as he closed on the Agreste mansion, reminding himself to set up a video chat with his girlfriends as soon as he arrived home both for Kagami's benefit and his own. “And I thought Plagg was greedy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who left kudos, bookmarked the story, or commented on that last chapter with kind words, observations, and speculations regarding the ways in which characters will respond to future revelations. Your comments were all a joy to read.


	3. It's all fun and games until a shipping war breaks out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stressful thirty hours without sleep and a spat with your father can send anyone's mood into the gutter. 
> 
> Adrien has a bad night after patrol and finds himself in a poor mental state at school, needing the support of his second girlfriend; however, she's somewhat the worse for wear for reasons that he can't understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Slight Disassociation

Adrien began this fine Monday morning blurry-eyed and foul tempered after a sleepless night spent mulling over the hint of jealous, petulant anger inspired by Ladybug's interest in his girlfriend, and beating himself up over the renewed swelling of attraction towards Ladybug herself.

_You're a horrible human being. Also 'phrasing.'_

The conversation with Kagami had seemed to settle his girlfriend's nerves and she had fallen asleep around a half-hour after she said goodnight to him and Marinette, or so her text message this morning informed him.

He had only wished that he could have seen her in person, and smoothed her low-hanging bangs out of the way so that he could press a kiss to her forehead as an excuse to take in the slightly exotic spice of her shampoo and revel in her faint blush.

And so that she could hold him in turn and tell him that things would be alright, even though he couldn't figure out what “things” were. Marinette, gentle, spastic, and kind, soothed him, made him feel accepted; Kagami felt like she could protect him, like he didn't need acceptance from anyone because she'd take on the world for him with nothing more than her épée, which was really pathetic because that sort of thing should have been his job.

Slouching his way into the shower and then smashing some full-coverage concealer, highlighter, and liquid concealer onto his face haphazardly to try to lessen the dark bags under his eyes, he hurried to make himself at least semi-presentable. Halfway through his valiant, but impossible struggle, Nathalie knocked on his door and summoned him to a rare unscheduled breakfast with his father.

Scooping Plagg into his bag and hastily double-checking his school supplies, he left his bedroom. Getting down the stairs proved an unexpected trial. He had tripped his way down the first flight, struggling with his pre-prepared _Gabriel_ -brand outfit that would “help market the new line.”

As he rounded the bend into the dining area, he begged silently for things to be _different_ today.

His father, fingers steepled, sat at the head of the comically-long dinning room table on the far end of the simultaneously austere and opulent room. That was simply a consequence of the heavy, dead air that seemed to follow Mr. Agreste wherever he went. The table was all but barren save for a neatly-folded newspaper that sat beside Gabriel Agreste, a glass of water for Adrien and a small plate of eggs and fruit.

Almost as soon as Adrien slipped into his seat and took a sip of his water, the shared meal was revealed as pretense. Gabriel had, in fact, called him down to be certain to berate Adrien for his _unacceptable_ performance in his most recent photoshoot, and so he did. However, when Adrien failed to respond with sufficient contrition, Gabriel rose from his seat and strode towards his son, stopping short to take in his appearance with narrowed eyes.

“Do you believe this to be acceptable?” His father gestured to Adrien's outfit, though it was hardly any more disorganized than a normal teenager's attire; utterly average and unremarkable with a few creases and a poorly folded collar.

“No, father.”

“If you are going to wear clothing from my new line,” Gabriel began as if Adrien actually had a choice in the matter, “you would do well to present it in the proper light. Your dishevelled appearance is embarrassing.”

“I just didn't sleep well last night,” Adrien tried to deflect, turning his eyes to his meal and picking absently at the wispy edges of his poached egg and the handful of grapes that rolled around his plate.

"That explains your stoop and your eyes,” Gabriel said, leaning in to press his hand to the side of Adrien's face and raise his chin. The motion was cool and detached and Adrien could only think of the way that Tom Dupain picked his giggling daughter up in his burly arms and squeezed her tight and how beautiful that was.

“But did you sleep in your clothes?”

“Of course not,” Adrien whispered.

“Then you have no excuse for them being in such disarray. Go change,” Gabriel said in a dismissive huff as he released his son and turned back to his side of the table to settle in with his newspaper.

As Adrien rose and slunk off to the door, he was stopped by Gabriel's voice.

“If you cannot regulate your sleep patterns, I will be forced to conclude that your room has too many sources of stimulation.” Adrien could only thank God that Gabriel couldn't be bothered to even look at his son as he spoke; otherwise he would have seen the little near-animalistic snarl that split Adrien's face and made him appear almost savage.

“I will put a lock on your internet access and television should I see you like this again.”

Adrien stalked off, knowing that his silence would be taken as a sign of defeat.

And there was no way that he could win.

He changed hurriedly into a more comfortable, standard outfit, and, after allowing his bodyguard to escort him to their car, tried to catch a five minute power-nap in the back seat.

The morning passed in an incoherent haze. He vaguely recalled greeting Nino and Alya, and, at some point after class had begun, Marinette had slipped into class, her late arrival being ignored by their teacher though his girlfriend nearly tripped over her own feet at the sight of him.

From that point on, he endured the constant sensation of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end; some feline instinct warned him that he was being watched intently. His girlfriend's eyes never seemed to leave him, which was unfortunate in the extreme. Not only was he worrying her, he would also have to rely on Mari's notes because Madame Bustier's lecture just kept slipping out of his weary mental fingers.

Also, he was plagued by hunger pangs.

Finally, with the sound of the lunch bell and their teacher's last fumbling directions regarding homework, Madame Bustier's students erupted into a bustle of activity, collecting their materials, breaking off into small groups to chat and gossip, and making for the exits.

After a hasty request for Nino to watch their bags, Alya and Marinette were out the door almost immediately, followed closely by Alix and Kim who had spent the last five minutes of class looking like they were on the verge of ripping their desks out of the floor in an effort to escape from the socially-acceptable child-prison known as "school," if only for the lunch hour.

Certainly _they_ thought of it as such, at least, if their mad scramble for the door was any indication.

Ironic that for Adrien, it was one of the few places where he actually felt free, even on a Monday morning like today. Something, something, "Freedom is Slavery."

Yes, the Agreste mansion could be compared to Oceania.

Did that make sense? He couldn't even tell at this point.

Adrien oozed his head down to the cool, inviting surface of his desk. It hardly made for a comforting pillow, but any port in a storm, even if twisting to lay on his desk sent sharp electric pangs through his neck.

"Dude, you look like death," Nino said from the seat beside him a few minutes later, after the other students had cleared the class.

Nino, faithful though he was, lacked a degree of tact and decorum. That was no doubt why Gabriel Agreste hated him and Adrien loved him when everything in their lives was one leering facade after the next.

"Yeah," Adrien mumbled into the faux-wooden surface of his desk. "I'm alright. Just tired."

"Your dad working you too hard again?"

Adrien snorted as his eyes fluttered closed and his breathing leveled out. How many times had he heard that question? There was never justifiable cause to pile his worries onto Nino.  
  
"No, man. I just didn't sleep too well last night." It was technically true given that he hadn't slept a single second.

"Maybe you should see the nurse, dude," Nino murmured, clearly concerned.

It was a tempting prospect, if only to be allowed to take a cat-nap in one of the infirmary's distinctly uncomfortable beds. Even that would be a relief, but his father would hear of it, because of course he would, and then he'd take Adrien out of school.

No, that didn't make any sense, but, well, Gabriel Agreste.

"I'll be alright, Nino," Adrien sighed. "Thanks for being worried about me, but all I need is a power nap or some coffee."

"Ask and you shall receive," a gentle voice responded.

With a slightly woozy wobble, Adrien raised himself up to greet the seraph, bearing gifts, that appeared before him.

Marinette, her hair swept into her usual pig-tails that his fingers suddenly ached to undo, stood before his desk, extending a cup to him while Alya poked away at her cell phone a few feet behind her best friend.

"Black, unsweetened, with two shots of espresso. I know you normally only take one, but you looked like you needed it," Marinette said with a smile that was wholly teasing and a sincere pinching of her brow that was pure, concealed concern.

"You're an angel," he mumbled, gazing up at her with a dopey grin that was just the right thing, he hoped, to dispel her concerns as her mere gentle offer and sincere worry began to do for him.

“Huff- I mean hot stuff!” A muscle in her cheek twitched and a nearly convulsive tremble worked its way down her arm, the cup shaking in her hands. “The coffee! Because what else is hot? I mean it's really hot in here, but the coffee, it's – you know – hot stuff! Becarefulokay!”

Though such bouts were becoming less common, it was clear that he still had "it," and her reaction was enough to perk him up more, he suspected, than would the coffee itself.

He took the waxy cardboard cup from her hands gently, allowing his fingers to stroke over hers for a moment, catching her eye and trying to reassure her without words that, yes, he was okay and so was she.

"Careful, there, Sunshine," Alya teased as she looked up from her phone. "What would Kagami say if she heard you flirting with my girl?"

"Probably the same thing," Adrien mumbled around the lip of his cup before taking a sip as Marinette and Alya fell into to their seats behind him. The stinging heat cleared some of the fog from his brain, while Marinette's thoughtfulness made him want to just take her into his arms and hold her to him, feeling her soft hair, stretched tight by her pig-tails, under his chin, while inhaling that cloying and comforting odour of bread and vanilla that permeated her clothing and reminded him of home because it was her scent.

But, of course, he couldn't do that.

If Kagami's mother knew of her daughter's predilections, or his father caught word of Adrien's “non-standard” relationship that would never pass focus-group testing as part of a brand marketing strategy, well, it would probably mean a one-way ticket back to Japan and a bedroom secured by a minefield and laser tripwires.

“Gotta protect the brand,” Adrien muttered under his breath, kicking himself mentally, not for the first time, at just how unfair it was to Marinette. It was only right that she have a boyfriend or a girlfriend or both who could hold her hand, steal kisses when she was fretting or fixating in order to distract her, or proclaim to her in front of the entire class that she was _brilliant_.

_I really am a horrible human being._

"What was that, bro," Nino asked as he bent under the desk to retrieve a sandwich from his backpack and began to stuff it down his throat in a fashion that Adrien could only find reminiscent of Plagg.

"Nino," Adrien yawned, longing for the coffee to take effect, "I don't even know what I'm saying. Just ignore me."

"Well, since we're ignoring Agreste," Alya interjected before Nino could reply, flipping her phone around to display it to the trio of friends around her. "New topic. Check out this photo that was submitted to the Ladyblog last night!"

The real object of his attentions, Marinette, blanched as she stared at the phone, jerking Adrien from his half-conscious haze into full alertness. The rush of adrenaline had him going for his baton, which, of course, was not at his hip, before he refocused on Alya's phone.

There, on the screen, was a slightly pixilated image of Chat Noir and Mitsubachi from the last evening, standing together on a rooftop. While Chat's expression was obliterated into a hazy blur, he had his hand on Mitsu's shoulder and they were standing closer than one would expect for “just friends.”

"Dude. Awesome! Is that the new bee hero with Chat Noir?" Nino asked, pressing in closer to his girlfriend's cell phone.

"Yeah! Did you see the video of her with that last Akuma? Practically took his jaw off! Ladybug made the right choice there." Alya cast a disparaging glare over at Chloe, who was being waited upon by Sabrina. "So much better than the last one."

“You going to write an article on the new Fox hero when she appears, Cesaire?” Chloe scoffed before turning back to Sabrina in order to berate her for failing to provide her with tea at the appropriate temperature.

“At least I-”

“Alya,” Marinette interjected in a strained tone. “It's not worth it.”

“Yeah, you're right girl,” the redhead sighed as she tucked her cell phone back in her pocket. “Anyone would be better than Chloe, so that's not even the really interesting part!”

“What do you mean, dudette?”

"The guy who snapped this photo?” With a quick pat to her pocket, she leaned in towards the other members of the group, beckoning them closer. “Well, _he_ said that the new hero was hanging out with Chat Noir for, like, a half hour before Ladybug showed up. Between that and how cozy they look in this pic, I think that she's interested in the cat."

"I-I'm sure that's not true," Marinette stuttered, waving her friend off dismissively, the jerky motion hurried, a near flail.

That actually kind of hurt. _What was the matter with Chat Noir? Why wouldn't Mitsubachi want him?_

"I think that they'd make a great couple," Adrien blurted out, long before his slowly churning mind, fixating on Chat Noir's potential inadequacies, hit upon the realization that Marinette might still have a crush on him, or, rather, on Chat Noir.

It was hard to let go of a crush, even if you'd found something better.

At least he could hope that he was better.

"Whoa, dude. I thought you were, like, the hardest of hardcore Ladynoir shippers," Nino said, his eyebrows shooting up almost to the brim of his baseball cap.

"Well, it just seems that he's moved on,” Adrien offered, his reactions tentative as he tried to buy more time for his brain to catch up and offer _something_ by taking another sip of his coffee. Unfortunately, thoughts were flowing like molasses today. “He never calls her Bugaboo or My Lady any more, right?"

Apparently, that was the right thing to say for Alya, who brightened considerably, and precisely the wrong thing for Marinette. Curling her hand around her bicep, she stroked her arm rapidly as if trying to fight off a chill, despite the warmth of the classroom, while she chewed on the inside of her cheek, her face sucking inward slightly.

Acid roiled in his gut, the confluence of a full sleepless night combined with a minimal breakfast and strong coffee on, functionally, an empty stomach. And, of course, self-loathing.

"Sometimes you've got to let go of your fantasies and face facts,” he stumbled on. G _od, what are you even doing?_ “When you do, you can find something that makes you happy in reality."

The expression on his girlfriend's face, one of barely concealed betrayal that made no sense, sent Adrien scrambling to take another painful gulp of the suddenly too-bitter coffee to wipe away the stinging tightness in his throat. He was _hurting_ her and he didn't even understand how or why. It had been a veiled compliment because that was exactly what he had done with her and Kagami.

"Yeah, but why switch ships?" a relatively oblivious Nino asked.

"Are you kidding? Did you see how they took on that Akuma from a few days ago?" Alya interjected, punching away at her phone to pull up video footage of the battle. How did she fish that out of her pocket so quickly?

"They were just so in-sync that it seemed like they were made for each-other. I mean, Ladynoir is the OTP of my life," she continued as she threw what Adrien assumed she must have thought was a subtle wink in Marinette's direction, “but I get it.”

The progressively increasing stoop to Marinette shoulders raised Adrien's hackles.

"Dude. You're right. It was like they were on the same wavelength," Nino enthused, likely in an effort to support his girlfriend's interest. Unlike Adrien himself, Nino was actually a _good_ boyfriend.

"Yeah," Adrien said softly, his gaze lingering on Marinette.

"So, Sunshine,” Alya asked with a smirk as she leaned towards him, “are you angling to be the head of the new cat-bee shipping community on the Ladyblog? I don't think one's been created yet."

"Uh, what?"

"The shipping section for-” she tapped a finger to her chin.”What are we going to call them?"

"The new girl is Mitsubishi, right?" Nino twisted his tongue over the word.

"Mitsubachi,” Adrien corrected on pure instinct. “It basically means honeybee in Japanese."

"So Mitsunoir?” Nino scowled. “Egh”

“That doesn't sound right." Alya's face twisted in derision. “Chat-su-bachi?" she stumbled over the alien combination of syllables.

"Bit of a mouthful, isn't it, babe?" Nino replied.

"Honey-Cat? Miel-Noir?

"That's-"

The crash and clatter of Marinette's notebook toppling to the floor in front of her cut Nino off.

"Could you stop it!" Marinette fumed, a pencil between her hands straining to the point of breaking as she torqued it ruthlessly.

While focusing on the banter between Nino and Alya, trying to keep pace, he hadn't even noticed Marinette's ennui turning to ire.

"Whoa!” Alya exclaimed. “What's got into you?"

"I- I just - it's stupid to read so much into the fact that they hang out before patrols," she squeezed out, tossing the pencil to her desk as Nino retrieved her notebook and deposited it before her tentatively like an offering to an angry god.

"Patrols as in plural?” Alya pressed with a fierce look on her face. Why did she always have to press? The situation had so rapidly spiralled out of control that Adrien was finding it hard for his molasses-brain to keep up.

“I only heard about the one time,” she continued. “They've met more than once without Ladybug? Girl, are you holding out on me?"

Marinette shot Adrien a helpless, pleading glance that nearly had him hissing his displeasure towards Alya. God, did he hate feeling powerless, but to have _her_ left impotent and desperate...

"You know I never liked 'shipping' the heroes, Alya,” Marinette began and that inexplicably genuine ... fear had Adrien's stomach churning even harder. “These aren't comicbook characters; they're real people with real feelings that _matter_."

_Oh, Mari._

That tight, acidic sensation now welled up his throat, rolling like a tide, and he had to choke back a whine. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the confusion, maybe it was the frustration, or the guilt...

But hearing _that_ – that his feelings _mattered_ – not just knowing that because of how she acted but hearing it...

How was it that he had needed Kagami to _tell_ him that he was in love with Marinette?

Maybe because it was so easy to be.

"I think Marinette's right, Alya," he said, clearing his throat to dispel the sensation as he pointed to the muted video footage of the last akuma attack that was playing on the blogger's phone. “Why don't you put that away?”

"Ah, Sunshine, you're not going to try to spoil my fun too, are you?"

"Journalism isn't about fun, Alya,” he gritted out, setting down his coffee and clutching the edge of his desk. “It's about the truth. Trust me that I've dealt with enough tabloid journalists and paparazzi to know that you're better than them."

"I'm just joking around, Agreste," Alya rumbled with a glare as she pocketed her cell phone. "If you don't have a sense of humour, the least you could do is stay quiet and not insult me."

"Dudes, come on," Nino interjected, though he cringed into his seat rather than moving to interrupt the burgeoning argument by interposing himself between the pair physically.

Marinette's face continued to darken, and she curled in on herself. That she should suffer for a spat brought on by his big mouth was utterly unjust.

"I have a sense of humour about things that are funny, Alya. People's feelings aren't!" he growled, rising from his seat so that he could face her.

"Well, aren't you high and mighty all of a sudden.” Alya cocked her head to the side as if pondering something. “Are you taking lessons from papa Agreste?"

The accusation prodded at that festering emotional boil deep inside of him that was always fit to burst, but that he tried never to acknowledge: _You are your father's son. How could you do any better? How could you be any better?_

As Adrien quivered at the jeering suggestion offered by her best friend, Marinette had gone stock still, puffing up with air as if ready to launch into the worst tirade that Adrien had ever seen from anyone this side of his father, though he expected fiery explosions rather than glacial, biting indifference.

“Whoa, dude! Not cool!” Nino interjected before even Marinette could say anything, his hardened expression directed towards Alya, and he placed a hand on Adrien's forearm to pull him back into his seat.

It was so rare for Nino to lose his temper, let alone to speak out against his girlfriend, who was on occasion allowed to run roughshod over him because he was so laid-back, that Marinette and Adrien alike were left in stunned silence.

Alya was not.

“He-” she began.  
  
“Babe!” Nino cut her off, his lips setting into a fine line as he stared her back into her seat, relenting much to Adrien's continued shock. “Adrien, Alya works crazy hard on that blog. It's more than just a website. She risks her _life_ to get footage of Akuma battles.”

While Nino said that as if it was a laudable thing, Adrien couldn't help but recall the half-dozen times that he had been injured due to Alya's recklessness.

“Yeah, bro. I can see that you don't like that any more than I do, but its her risk to take, you know?” Nino almost pleaded. “She's not a superhero, but she wants to do her part, to show people that they have heroes fighting for them.”  
  
Alya swelled up with pride as she threw a smug expression in Adrien's direction.  
  
“Babe, don't think you're getting off just 'cause I love you,” Nino continued in a tone that, even directed away from him, made Adrien want to sink into his chair and slide off onto the floor. “What you just said was one of the cruellest things I've ever heard. You _know_ what that asshole's like.”

There was a moment of silence as Adrien chugged the rest of his still-semi-scalding coffee because he wanted the pain.

That might be something that he should talk to his girlfriends about, seeing as a counsellor would just be out of the question for an _Agreste_.

“You're right, Nino,” Alya muttered as Marinette deflated like a puffer fish that had successfully warded off a predator. Placing her cell phone on her desk, she bowed her head slightly towards Adrien. “I'm sorry, Adrien. You know that I can get carried away sometimes, but that's no excuse.”

“Yeah, and so can I. You didn't deserve that snipe,” Adrien agreed hastily before turning to his best friend with a grin and reaching out to pat his upper arm. “Thanks for putting us both in our place, Nino.”

“Hey, dude, what's a best friend or boyfriend for?” he asked rhetorically with a shrug.

And just like that, Adrien sagged back into his seat, head swimming slightly at the sudden weight that lifted on his shoulders, burning lungs, and heart.

“Nino,” Alya said sweetly, though her tone carried an undercurrent of something that straddled the line between mock anger and giddiness. She too must have been feeling the same way as Adrien, he realized. “Did you just suggest that your job as my boyfriend was to 'put me in my place?'”

Marinette stiffed a giggle that seemed more a release of anxious tension than a product of actual amusement, but it still had Adrien believing that everything was right in the world because if his girls were happy it was probably true.

“Uh, dude? Help?” Nino muttered, his eyes frantic.

“Sure.” Adrien tapped him on the shoulder as he stood. It would be conducive to his health to stretch his legs for the remainder of the lunch hour. “I'll pay for your funeral. Marinette?”

“Good luck, Nino,” Marinette called back with a wave, already heading out the door with Adrien following after her.

And the snippets of the conversation that they left behind them followed him as he and Mari took up a position just outside the classroom.

“So, you going to put me in my place, Lahiffe?”

“Now, babe,” Nino began hesitantly, “you know that I meant your – your place... on a pedestal like the fierce but merciful goddess you are?” His voice rose an octave at the end as if he was asking a question.

“Sorry, 'dude,' that one's just a Madonna stereotype. You'd better think quickly or no more bonus stage on _Super Penguino_.”

Marinette was clasping her hand to her mouth in order to keep from laughing.  
  
“Come on, babe. Not the bonus stage!”

And that seemed to break Marinette's dwindling resolve as a snort burst free from her hand.

Nino's plaintive objection faded as Adrien nudged the classroom door shut with a chuckle because everything was just so ridiculous that they really had no right to the spite that they had been poised to vomit in each other's directions. Nino, at least, was more level-headed and impartial than the rest of them. Not to mention well-rested

“Would you like to join me for a quick lunch, Adrien?” Marinette inquired with a light cough, trailing a hand over Adrien's forearm in a way that appeared platonic to any of the students passing them in the hall, though the tender sensation of her fingers ghosting over his skin introduced some butterflies to the already tumultuous environment of his empty stomach.

“I could really use a nice meal with a good friend,” Adrien affirmed with a nod as he allowed her to gently tug him towards the cafeteria.

He'd pay for that “good friend” comment too, even if she knew that was all that they could appear to be in public while Adrien and Kagami were still under the heavy thumb of their respective parent.

They strolled through thickly-crowded hallways, filled with students at their lockers, friends playing video games on their cell phones while lounging on the floor, creating hazards for any passersby, and more than a few couples, including Marc and Nathaniel whom Marinette greeted in passing, who were, in a wide variety of ways, getting “comfortable” with each other, making the most of their lunch hours.

“Hey, Marinette?” Adrien spoke up softly as they rounded the corner to the hallway that led into the cafeteria.

“Yes, Adrien?” Her breathless tone nearly had him stumbling the last few feet before he righted himself and angled her into the corner between the end of the lockers and the cafeteria door.

“Thank you for speaking with Kagami last night. I think that she really needed us,” he said, hoping that the softness of his voice and his pinched expression would let her know that they _both_ needed her.

“No, thank _you_ , Adrien,” she said, though he couldn't be sure if she had caught on. “It was good of you to think of her, and your hunch was right on the money.”

“There are times when we just need someone to listen, and to be reminded that we don't have to go it alone.” He wasn't talking about himself at this moment. Nope. Not in the slightest. “Sometimes that's all we need to make things seem alright again and get us through whatever it is that we're dealing with.” He winked at her. “Team sport, right?”

“Right,” Marinette affirmed gently, though she pulled away into the corner to mull for a moment. “But I have to wonder, well - how did you know that she in a bad place with her mother last night?”

“Just a feeling,” he deflected because he couldn't exactly say that he had been speaking to their girlfriend, who was actually a superhero, while running a patrol as a feline superhero whose power source seemed to have a leather fetish. “And, honestly, I really wanted to talk to both of you because I needed it too."

She began to worry her lip in that anxious way that told him that she was beginning to spiral – into what or why, he couldn't say.

“You okay, Marinette?”

“Yeah. It's just,” she hesitated and clenched her teeth. “I didn't see it.”

“Well, you didn't see _her_ at all yesterday until I phoned you up. How could you?”

“Right,” she replied, seemingly utterly unconvinced. “You can only be responsible for what you know.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, noting her slightly defeated tone. “By the way, thanks for the coffee. It was really _hot stuff_ ”

“Oh, god,” she muttered in reply, throwing a palm to her forehead, covering her eyes.

“Adorably abashed” was a far better look on Marinette than that wholly misplaced guilt, and it was his job to make sure that neither she nor Kagami stayed in that kind of head-space any longer than was necessary.

“Speaking about responsibilities, though, how would you feel about blowing some of them off?”

“Adrien, how scandalously delinquent,” she chastised in an exaggeratedly horrified tone as if the very idea offended her delicate sensibilities. “Whatever did you have in mind?”

"Well, Kagami and I kept talking for a while after you signed off and we thought that we might go on an "approved date" to the Louvre this Saturday afternoon,” Adrien replied.

“You certainly know how to live the wild life, there, Adrien,” Marinette snarked as she poked him gently in the belly, or, rather, abs, as she seemed to realize quite quickly, if her glance towards his midsection was any indication.  
  
She cleared her throat after starting for a moment, unintentionally stroking his ego. He'd really have to talk to Plagg about alterations to his costume. The padding on the torso pretty much made it impossible to show off his sick abs.

“Your father would be _appalled_ ,” Marinette finished at last.

“If he knew that we plan on giving the Gorilla the slip so that I can take Kagami to an arcade and then a movie, probably.” Adrien passed a hand over the back of his head with a strained chuckle.

“The arcade, you say?” Marinette quirked a brow with an approving smile that made any censure that he could ever receive from his father worthwhile. “Has she ever been?”

“No, so she needs someone to show her the ropes, and I was wondering if you might be free to give her some tips.”

“Anything to help a friend, of course,” Marinette offered.

“You're the best, Mari. You should bring a date too, you know” he said, his light and airy tone teasing, as she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “I think that it would be really fun for all of us to go on a, uh, double date together.”

“I'll see if I can find anyone who's interested,” Marinette scoffed with a derisive shake of her head.

After offering her an exaggerated, mock-gentlemanly bow of thanks, his hand pressed to his chest just below his throat, Adrien stepped back and pulled open the cafeteria door, ushering her inside with a slow sweep of his arm.

“After you, my lady,” he said with a grin, which became stiff when he noted the strange flicker of sadness that winked across her face, only to be released.

This week was going to crawl by, but that just made the eager anticipation all the sweeter. Some time with Kagami and Marinette was exactly what he needed to get his head back in order: no dour ruminations regarding his father, no more thoughts of Ladybug going after his girlfriend, and no more weird resurgent Ladybug-crush either.

Glancing up at Marinette as she faux-curtsied with an imaginary skirt and walked into the cafeteria, and thinking of the lopsided but still radiant smile that Kagami would offer him when she heard the news that Mari was free, he knew that he had something even better.

Only four and a half days to their date.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the supportive comments and interest in the previous chapter. It's nice to know that there is at least a small fandom for this particular triad, though it is dwarfed in popularity by Lukadrienette, which I think is a shame. 
> 
> Much of what was covered pertaining to Adrien and Marinette's civilian relationship fleshes out the dynamic between these three silly kids, and we get a sense of both Adrien and Marinette's penchant for self-sacrifice and their continued efforts to project false fronts because they can't be honest with each-other; Marinette because of her anxieties and responsibilities and Adrien because he too has a secret identity and most of his life is a superficial lie that he still tries to maintain instinctively,
> 
> Bad-parent Gabriel Agreste or just a man who is worried about his son's exhaustion and has no idea how to express it in a healthy fashion? You decide. 
> 
> Next time, we follow Marinette as she concretizes much of what has been alluded to here and struggles with a flirty cat (and who would have every guessed that she'd be frustrated that his attentions were not directed at her) and a half-dozen Akuma in short order. Self-doubt will rear its head again as she seeks out Tikki's advice on Mitsubachi and Chat Noir.


	4. The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has a great deal of work to catch up on, and much to think about in light of recent events. Anxiety claws at the edges of her mind, but she's learning to cope, and she has a caring, if blunt, best friend, and a kwami to offer her advice. The latter may not fully support her approach to improving her relationships with her boyfriend and girlfriend, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic Attack

The pleasant warm light of Marinette's room offered the girl a comforting sense of familiarity and safety that counterbalanced the frantic creative energy that caused her limbs to tingle. Fabrics and sewing paraphernalia littered the room due to her typical chaotic style, which Adrien had gently informed her might have to change if she became a professional designer for a company like _Gabriel_.

“So, how'd it go with Nino?” Marinette hummed absently as she dove into nearly-complete design work on her desk with relish.

“Not bad,” Alya said from the video chat app on Marinette's computer, a static crackle distorting her voice, “but he's going to have to complete a lot of speed runs of _Super Penguino_ level 3 before he gets back to the bonus stage.”

“And that's a ... bad thing?” Marinette questioned, repositioning fabric. “Does he not like level 3?”

“Nah. He likes it more than he'll admit, but it's a long level and I enjoy it more than he does.”

“Ah,” Marinette cooed. “That level.”

She was nowhere _near_ level 3 with Kagami or Adrien because she would make an absolute stuttering idiot out of herself. None of them were emotionally ready for anything close to that, though Kagami might be closer to it than her. Not that the pair, who were slightly more “familiar” with each other, hadn't spent a little bit of time coaxing her blushing and bashful self around first base, which she figured was roughly akin to “level 1” of _Super Penguino_.

“Yep,” Alya popped. “You should really find someone to try it with, or at least so that you can move on from the tutorial to get to level 1. I know that Luka didn't work out, but you've got to put yourself out there, girl.”

“I just don't have time for that sort of thing between school, the bakery, and my commissions.” And trying to negotiate a relationship with two other people while also battling super-villains every second day, though she couldn't tell Alya that.

“But I notice that you did have time for Adrien this afternoon,” Alya said in a conspiratorially hush. “Spill, girl. What were you doing with Mr. Agreste while I was disciplining Nino?”

“Don't want to hear about your fetishes, thanks,” Marinette deflected faux-cheerfully.

“Oh, nice one girl,” Alya enthused with no small amount of snark, “but you're not throwing me off the scent that easily.”

Marinette caught herself between a yawn and a sigh. Of course Alya's dogged determination to uncover the truth could not be broken.

“We were just having lunch, and he wanted to thank me for helping him with Kagami by inviting me to a movie with them this Saturday.”

As she threaded a needle to transition into the final detail work on her project, she found her friend's lingering silence somewhat unnerving, and so turned to her computer. Alya was merely leaning into the screen, having stopped typing up her most recent blog article.

“Why are you torturing yourself like this, girl?” she said at last as she plucked off her glasses and set them off screen. “I'm not saying this to hurt you, but I want to be honest so you don't get hurt worse: Adrien doesn't love you.”

Marinette flinched and nearly dropped her materials, her breathing accelerating. In mere moments, it was reduced to quick pants. No matter how quickly she tried to suck down air, _she couldn't get enough._

“And hanging around waiting for scraps, or for them to break up so that you can swoop in and save Adrien, just isn't healthy,” Alya finished with paradoxical gentleness.

That was an agonizing accusation on so many levels, because in some ways she still thought that Adrien didn't really love her – that one day he'd realize that all of _this_ was a mistake as _they_ could never work with Gabriel Agreste and Tomoe Tsurugi watching all the time, ready to crush Adrien, Kagami, and Marinette, along with any hope of freedom or success in the fashion industry and it was too much trouble – she was too much trouble for them to be interested in her because _she_ was just an experiment and nothing more and that was all that _Marinette_ would ever be worth to anyone.

That was the anxiety. Kagami and Adrien told her that. Because they cared.

Affirming that to herself didn't soothe the burning ache of fear, but it did let her shut her eyes and tamp down on her breathing.

It would pass because it always did.

_Your feelings are valuable, but they pass. They always pass. It always passes and they don't define you. They don't have to control you._

The rapid, shallow breaths that she could feel only half inflating her lungs slowly morphed into deep inhalations. She just had to breathe from her belly. Long. Filling her up. Slow. Leaving her empty.

“Girl?” Alya pressed from the darkness beyond Marinette's closed eyelids.

“Just a second, Alya.”

There was a small blister on the sole of her left foot, which itself was stiff and achy. A nerve was pinched in her calf. She clenched, held, and released it. Her hands fell to her freshly-shaved thighs that were smooth under her fingers, warming uncomfortably with the harsh grip of her fingers that dimpled her flesh and left red marring. The rise and fall of her belly brushed her shirt, just below the swell of her chest. Shoulders high and tight, she forced them to relax with a subtle roll. Veins and arteries in her throat throbbed, slowing to a pulsation and then something normal that she couldn't even detect. Her scalp itched right at the crown of her head, so she scratched at it absently.

With one last low breath, she turned back to her computer screen.

“It will be alright, Alya,” Marinette affirmed as much for her own benefit as for that of her friend. ”I know where we stand and I won't let my feelings convince me of something that isn't true.”

“If you're sure, girl,” Alya continued dubiously, “but maybe you want to turn them down this time anyways.”

“Why?” Marinette replied as she returned to the commission on her work desk.

“Well, what if they start, you know, making out in the theatre?”

Marinette fumbled a stitch and had to begin to undo it hastily.

“You don't want to see that," Alya said with a rough chuckle.

Actually, she kind of _did_ want to see that. Adrien and Kagami were gorgeous people, and, well, first base.

“Listen, Alya, I said that I would be fine, and I will,” Marinette said with an air of finality, not even looking up from her work this time.

“Okay,” Alya replied and out of the corner of Marintte's eye, she could see her friend worry her hands together. “You busy or something tonight, girl?

When was she not busy? She'd fretted and catastrophized after last night's patrol, wasting time that should have gone into the commission that she was working on, spoken with Kagami for an hour, had three papers to write, two of which she'd already gotten extensions on, had to prep for her history test, was expected to help in the bakery on Saturday, and who knew how many akuma that Hawkmoth would send out this week?

“Yeah. Big commission that's due soon,” she said. That deflection was such a lame excuse, so impotent and small compared to the whirlwind of concerns that buffeted her about each day.

“Getting things done at the last minute, again, eh? Gotta take care of yourself, first, though, girl. Don't kill yourself,” Alya added lightly, though the flippant tone was itself strained by genuine concern and a hint of frustration.

Whatever her failings, and Lord knew that Marinette had her own, Alya _was_ a good friend. She tried, more than Marinette deserved when she was prevaricating and outright lying constantly. It had only grown worse since she'd had to cover for her relationship with Adrien and Kagami and her new role as Guardian, and surely there was only so much that the other girl could take.

Would Adrien and Kagami one day feel the same way?

“You don't have to worry about it, Alya,” Marinette strained.

“Alright,” her friend replied with a curt nod. “I guess I'll leave you to it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Take care.”

“Bye, girl.”

Her image shifted on screen as the other girl leaned in before winking out of existence, leaving only the dry “Rate Call Connectivity” prompt from her computer's messaging app in her place.

“Tikki, would you mind getting that for me?” Marinette hummed as she resumed her work.

The little goddess of creation rose from a slowly-dwindling pile of cookies and flitted over the Marinette's mouse and keyboard, taking the time to rate the call at a full five stars and then slamming her body into the power button on the computer screen. The image blinked off as Tikki did much the same thing to the “sleep” key, the tower's lights dimming and the low electrical hum that had pervaded the room dying away.

“She's not wrong, Marinette,” Tikki said softly as she returned to her wielder and settled on Marinette's work desk. “You do need to take time for yourself on occasion.”

“I do,” Marinette insisted absently. “I spent an hour online with Kagami and Adrien last night. That was 'me' time.”

“Really,” Tikki scoffed. “What did you talk about?”

“Uh-” and there was that prevarication again, just redirected. “Lots of things.”

“Marinette,” Tikki prodded with a sigh.

“Okay, fine, but Kagami needed us after what her mother did. That's more important.”

“Do you think that either of them would have wanted you to spend an hour with them, trying to help Adrien to lift Kagami's spirits, if they had known how much work you had to do?”

“That doesn't matter, Tikki. They didn't know.” And you can't be blamed for what you don't know, as her conversation with Adrien himself reminded her this afternoon.

“You didn't tell them,” Tikki pressed, plucking a needle from Marinette's pin cushion and handing it over when required.

“She _needed_ us,” Marinette stressed again, though she couldn't bring herself to look at the little kwami.

“You can't just sacrifice everything for the people you care about, even the people you love.” The little goddess of creation flew up into Marinette's view to look her in the eye. “That's not how relationships work. It's just a way to foster resentment.”

How was Marinette even supposed to know how relationships worked? Before she or they even knew what they were doing, she'd dived head first into polyamory. At least Kagami had done research. Now it was juggling two- three relationships between each pair and all three of them in addition to all of her other stresses. Even more than that if she counted “Mitsubachi,” Ladybug, and whatever was going on with Chat Noir.

Between the "six" of them, it was like... a love Hexagon.

Cue a “honeycomb” joke from Chat Noir. She could almost hear his voice and see his grinning face in the back of her mind. Stupid cat was in her head.

Of course, he had a girlfriend, she had to remind herself because that was such a weird thought after having him chasing after her for so long. A love heptagon? There had always been something comforting about his affections, as insistent and ill-timed as his expression thereof often had been, because they were sure and solid and they flattered her ego, which was really kind of despicable.

“I thought you liked Adrien and Kagami?” Marinette grumbled because it was easier than trying to work through the matter in her head. “Weren't you in favour of this?”

“Well, you _are_ very cute together,” Tikki granted with a giggle, “but you're my first concern. It's because I care about you that I want things to work out. Honesty and open communication are necessary for that.”

“I can handle it, Tikki,” Marinette assured her. It was true. Despite the demands on her time, the weight of responsibilities, her Guardianship, her desperate attempts to support Adrien and Kagami with their parents and the much worse problems that they had to deal with, her role as class president – God, she was going to stress herself out even more if she continued on that line of thought.

_Maybe she's right. Maybe I am just a mess._

“I'm almost done,” she assured, rather than giving voice or mental space to that thought. “If I put in a good two hours of work tonight, I should be able to polish off the finishing touches.”

“I know that you can handle it, Marinette,” Tikki reassured her, “but I'm not just talking about one night's work or a commission. I'm _trying_ to talk to you about what's healthy for you and for your relationship.”

“I know, Tikki,” Marinette replied and turned to her kwami, both her gaze and her voice pleading, “and I appreciate that, but I just – I can't deal with that right now, okay?”

“Okay, Marinette,” Tikki granted, “but I'm here to talk if you need me.”

Two hours of work uninterrupted by Tikki, her concerned parents, who had been told that her room was strictly off limits tonight, or Alya did indeed allow her to finish off the fine detail work on Aurore Beauréal's jacket. Once she fell into that easy rhythm of design that was almost the exact opposite of an anxiety attack because conscious thought just seemed to vanish while everything became instinct and muscle memory, it had almost been easy.

It was relaxing to just ... shut off for a little while

Straining her arms above her head with another yawn, Marinette rose from her chair, attracting Tikki's attention from the muted television that she had been watching using closed captioning.

“Are you alright, Marinette?”

“Yeah, Tikki,” Marinette replied as she rose from her chair and made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. “Be right back.”

After preparing herself for bed and changing into her night clothes, she contemplated texting Kagami to check on her, but Tikki's earlier exhortation to take some “me time” was still floating in the back of her mind. She settled at her desk, waking her computer from sleep mode, intent on trolling through some youtube feeds. Her web browser booted up to reveal the last site she had visited: the Ladyblog.

A flash of hot jealousy had her clicking away immediately, but the damage was done. Alya had finished her latest article, it seemed, while Marinette was hard at work on her commission.

_Honey-Cat: Is Paris' New Heroine Sweet on Chat Noir?_

And there was that damn photograph Alya had been showing off in class today.

A clenching, rolling acidic feeling welled up inside of her, and if she let it, she would begin to hyperventilate again. There it was, and it wasn't fair. It never was to her or to Adrien and Kagami. She would give anything to pull her mind away from the grip of those ugly creeping tentacles of anxiety that were always sliming their way around the edges of her brain.

“Tikki, I'm ready for that talk now!” she strained in a hush, well aware that her parents were only a few rooms away.

The little Kwami joined her at her desk without a word, though she did pause to cuddle up to Marinette's cheek for a moment. A little physical affection went a long way towards settling her nerves. It always did, because she was used to touch. There was the lifetime of crushing hugs from her papa. Her mother cradled her head when she needed a good cry, stroking her hair and humming snippets of childhood lullabies until Marinette calmed. Tikki never shied away from expressing her affections with gentle nuzzles, and even Chat Noir had a complete lack of physical boundaries because those were a luxury they couldn't afford when they got tangled up together on a regular basis or had to body-check each other out of the way of danger.

She had to wonder, though, outside of their time together, did Kagami and Adrien ever have that? What would it be like to have a mother who never cuddled you when you needed to cry? Or never even _let_ you cry? How could a father never wrap you up in his arms and make you feel like there was nothing in the world that could ever hurt you because he loved you and you never needed anything more than that to keep you safe?

She swallowed and blinked to hold back tears.

Tomorrow, wherever they were, Adrien and Kagami were going to get the biggest hugs she could offer.

Refocusing on Tikki, who had flitted over to the desk and was twiddling her nubs, she tried her best to banish those thoughts, but the article and the status of her boyfriend and girlfriend wouldn't quite leave her.

“Tikki,” she began hesitantly, and the Kwami turned to her.

“Yes, Marinette? I'm happy to talk if you think that would help.”

Time to bite the bullet.

“Do you think,” Marinette paused. “Do you think that I made the wrong choice in giving Kagami a miraculous?”

“It is your right as the guardian to give our the Miraculous to any anyone you deem worthy, Marinette,” Tikki reassured. “I can offer you my advice, and so can any of the other kwami, but we can't tell you if you're right.”

“That's not the most helpful answer, Tikki.” Why couldn't someone else just think for her – work through her problems for her? Her own racing, traitorous mind couldn't be trusted with that.

“Maybe, but it is the truth” she affirmed and retrieved one of her last cookies, taking a pensive bite before continuing. “Now, why are you worried that Kagami was the wrong choice? Like I said, we can give you advice, the best that we can offer.”

“Thank you, Tikki,” Marinette began, hesitating to try to find the right words to express the deeper concern that she couldn't quite understand herself before sighing. Best to just speak it aloud and see what thought coalesced.

“I- I think that I'm jealous. I didn't even realize that until last night with Chat Noir.”

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki cooed. “That doesn't mean that you made a mistake giving her a miraculous. Don't let what Alya said get you to second-guess yourself. She tries her best, but a lot of the time her imagination gets away from her. You're all still young, and for her that means that she can sometimes be more interested in the stories that she wants to see than the ones that are true.”

“I wish that I could say that it was just because of Alya's shipping talk, Tikki, but,” she frownd and began to play with a stray needle to keep her hands occupied. “But it wasn't that I was jealous that Chat and Kagami got to spend time together.”

“Of Kagami, then? Chat is your partner. That's understandable too. You don't have to be ashamed of that feeling.”

“No, Tikki. It's worse than that. When I saw them together, I realized that I- I think that I'm jealous of Adrien.” Considering his treatment at the hands of his father and just how little love he received, how could she have felt that way? Maybe it wasn't the anxiety talking when that mental voice told her that they would never work and it would be _her_ fault.

“Oh, well, that is different, I guess.” Tikki trundled over to a spool of red tread laying on Marinette's workspace, gripped its edge and pulled herself upwards. The sight of her her little nubby legs flailing in the air for a second before she settled herself into a seated position had Marinette smiling despite her dour thoughts.

“You could just float up, you know.” Marinette snorted despite the sting in her eyes.

“Where's the fun in that?” Tikki asked with a cheeky grin, staring up at Marinette from her new psychiatrist's chair. Marinette settled herself and tried to collect her thoughts into something that could reasonably be presented to “Dr. Tikki.”

“Adrien has so many things in common with her – spends so much time with her,” Marinette sighed, resting her chin in her hands, bringing her face close to the attentive kwami. The two heirs lived in the same world, one that she really couldn't access.

“Kagami fences with Adrien almost every week. They go to the same parties, and their parents want them to be together. Everyone knows that they're dating, while I'm just ... alone. I know that they try to include me as often as they can, and Kagmi and I meet for orange juice, but- I don't know...”

“You see Adrien every day, but as 'just a friend.' You're afraid that the three of you are imbalanced.” the kwami clarified with a slow nod. “In the time that you spend together. In how your relationships are developing.“

“I think –“ Marinette had to stop to settle her mind and unsteady heart. “I _know_ , because of what happened with Chat, that I've felt that for a while. So, did I give Kagami a Miraculous for the wrong reasons – because I wanted an excuse to spend time with her, just the two of us? Did I want to share something with her that was ours because I was selfish and jealous and I didn't think that what I was getting was enough?”

“I don't know, Marinette,” Tikki conceded. “That's a question that you have to search your own heart to answer. Here's what I do know. That heart is _huge_. Even if you were being selfish, you weren't _just_ being selfish.”

“How am I supposed to know, Tikki?” Wasn't the little god supposed to be wise in light of thousands of years guiding Ladybugs? “Maybe that's why I was so angry with Chat for just being silly and kind. Because he was actually using the time that I wanted to have with her, instead of leaving her out to dry like I did?”

The little kwami rubbed her nubby paws together, a frown darkening her normally jovial features

“Marinette, maybe now isn't the time for you to start thinking about your motives.” The squeakiness of her voice belied her serious, contemplative tone. “If there's an underlying problem that's got you confused, don't you think that you should try to address that first so that you can think about your responsibilities as Guardian of the miraculous clearly?”

She had to admit that the advice made sense. Marinette spiraled out of control so often, even now that she knew better, because she lost sight of the root of problems - the real - racing down a path whose choppy brickwork consisted of nothing but anxious imaginings.

“How do you suggest that I do that?” the girl hummed.

“You're feeling left out by Kagami and Adrien. You have a right to that feeling, and you also have the right to tell them.”

“Tikki, I can't!” Marinette exclaimed, slapping her palms to her computer desk and pushing herself back, her chair wobbling slightly. “They'd feel terrible, and how I feel isn't their fault.”

“A lot of problems aren't _anyone's_ fault;” Tikki continued without acknowledging the outburst or heat of Marinette's tone. “They're the result of us having expectations that aren't met because they aren't expressed and that builds up over time until the good feelings that you have aren't enough.”

“But they're my expectations so it's my problem to deal with Tikki. That's what I was trying to do, I think, when I gave Kagami the Bee miraculous.”

“And, Marinette,” Tikki soothed with a caring frown. “I love you, but that's very unhealthy.”

Marinette couldn't bring herself to do anything but stare at Tikki's concerned, sincere face.

“In a relationship,” the kwami continued, “you don't have problems; you all have problems. Your responsibility isn't to solve everything on your own. It's to be honest so that you can work together to understand and solve your collective problem because what affects one of your affects all of you. You and Chat Noir said that you'd take on the world together, and this isn't so different.”

“So you're saying that I should just dump my problems on them?” Marinette growled, rising from her seat in a huff to rummage about in a nearby drawer. Alongside the knickknacks and assorted school supplies lay a small pink fidget-spinner which she withdrew and began to twist in her fingers. “You know what I'm like, Tikki. If I did that, I'd be badgering them all the time.”

“That's a very uncharitable way of putting it, Marinette.”

“I know, but- but it's true, in a way. I know that I get lost in here,” she paused and tapped the side of her forehead with the fidget-spinner, “and sometimes it's tough for me to tell when I should really be afraid of something or if it's just... me.”

“So let them help you to know which is which,” Tikki exhorted with a sigh, rising from the desk to float over to Marinette's shoulder. “Spend time together not just having fun – and you should have fun because you need it and deserve it – but be honest with each other. When they have to deal with fake people in their lives, don't you think they deserve the honest truth, even when it's not fun?”

Turning from her kwami, Marinette tossed her fidget-spinner onto her desk and scaled the ladder that led up to her bed, though she could feel Tikki trailing after her.

“Thanks, Tikki,” she mumbled while pulling her comforter aside and slipping into bed, taking a moment to readjust her pillow. “Could you get the light?”

The kwami flitted off without a word, leaving Marinette to stare up at the ceiling, wishing that her mind could be as blank as the adjoining off-pink wall.

Kagami and Adrien deserved love and a safe place to fall because they never really had that while she, with her parents, had an abundance. Yes, she had her problems, more stresses than she knew how to handle at this young age, but was hiding them out of love actually worse than “burdening” the people for whom she cared?

They all had burdens. In light of Kagami's issues with her mother, that Marinette' hadn't even seen, many of those weights were things that they didn't seem to feel that they could share with each other yet. Maybe that wasn't right; maybe they did have to take the time to actually collect their troubles together and balance the weight between them, in all aspects of their lives.

She resettled her comforter, tucking it under her chin, as the room fell to darkness, the only light pouring in from the small circular window below her, still enough to see Tikki as she floated up next to her and settled on the open expanse of mattress next to Marinette's head.

“You know, Tikki,” Marinette said as she reached out to stroke her kwami's bulbous head lightly, eliciting a happy chirp. “I think that you're right. We need to spend more time together, and I've got a plan for just that.”

“Marinette,” the kwami grumbled, brow folding under the pressure of Marinette's finger. “I was thinking that you might just talk to them without a “plan.” You know that your plans can get away from you sometimes.”

“We _should_ sit down and be honest,” Marinette affirmed, “and that's something that we'll talk about on Saturday, but for the time being, I'm going to fix my mistake.”

“What mistake?” Tikki inquired hesitantly, pressing her paws to Marinette's probing finger and squeezing tight in a little hug.

“Giving Kagami a miraculous for selfish reasons – because I might have been just a little jealous of Adrien.”

“Marinette,” the kwami gaped. “I think that it would be worse if you took it away from her. She's part of the team, and hasn't done anything to deserve that.”

“Tikki how could you even think that I would do that?!” Marinette's hand jerked back, nearly dragging Tikki with her.

“What are you going to do, then?” the kwami asked, her confusion and relief obvious.

“Well,” Marinette chuckled, “I have been looking for a good candidate for a miraculous - one whose identity hasn't been compromised.”

Of course, that only left her with one blond-haired option.

Marinette saw, but chose to ignore, Tikki's even deeper expression of dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult chapter to write, and it made for an interesting learning experience regarding narrative movement (or lack thereof), for someone who, before this series, hadn't written anything since ... 2014? Marinette featured in other chapters without the chance for her to explore her feelings "on screen" (communication and deliberate attempts to conceal feelings in order to protect the other members of the triad is kind of everyone's issue here). As a result, she had as much emotional baggage to work through as Adrien, and even more because of her extra responsibilities. Much of this chapter was in her mind, though I tried to "show" rather than "tell" when she struggled to deescalate her the anxiety attack. 
> 
> Not a lot of forward movement here, except for Marinette in her attempt to think more clearly about her relationship and everyone's responsibilities. 
> 
> Originally, this chapter was supposed to include an akuma battle and a gradual worsening of the situation with Mistuabachi, Chat, and Ladybug, which would help lead into the conflict with which we started chapter 1, but I like to keep my chapters at around 4000 words at most. On the level of her character, Marinette needed time to decompress, and "I" needed time to write through her developing understanding of her situation. Even then, I had to pare away some material that will likely find its way into other stories.
> 
> Like I said, a learning experience for future works wherein I will try to better balance character's revelations and developing perspectives. 
> 
> Next chapter, akuma attacks, a possible "new" miraculous wielder being invited into the fold, and Chat Noir doing Chat Noir things.


	5. ...gang aft agley,...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette takes the first step in her “plans,” such as they are. 
> 
> Kagami converses with two of the three most important women in her life, though her chats are remarkably different in tone and tenor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally plotted out to include a little date between two bugs and an Akuma battle, but it was growing overly-long. As a result, it has been split in two and the next chapter will be posted in two days.

_**Marinette** _ _: Hey, Kagami! Do you have time to meet in the park where we last saw Andre? Around 7:00 this morning, same bench? Don't worry about breakfast._

The message had arrived on Kagami's cell phone at around 11:00 last evening, long after she had gone to bed in anticipation of her 5:30 AM wake-up call. Fortunately, Marinette knew to send the message to Kagami's “personal” cell phone, which Adrien had given to her as a gift in light of her mother's careful monitoring of her older one. Morning yoga and a jog before breakfast usually kept Kagami busy until it was time to head to school, but if she pushed the pace of her jog to a run, she would still have time for a hasty shower, especially if Marinette was bringing something to eat.

Meeting at 7:00. A half hour to eat; a half hour to get to school. Easily accommodated. 

As Kagami rolled out of bed, she sent a quick message back to the baker, informing her that she would indeed make herself available. Pollen was yawning and stretching out in the little cubbyhole in Kagami's desk, and the girl took a moment to stroke her kwami's fuzzy scalp.

It was a surprising comfort to wake in another 'person's' presence. To have her in the room as she released gentle hums and busied herself cobbling together her little nest. The emptiness of Kagami home had never been apparent to her before it was filled.  
  
“Are you well this morning, Pollen?” she asked, though she expected no complaints from the relatively acquiescing kwami.

“Quite so, my Queen,” Pollen affirmed in an officious tone that was undercut by her nearly-instinctual responsive nuzzle into Kagami's finger. The girl's expression remained slack, however anyone who knew her well would have been able to see the slight softening around her eyes.

While the kwami took off in search of breakfast, waggling her behind in a little dance towards the now nearly-empty box of cookies from _Tom and Sabine's_ that sat near her “bed,” Kagami shucked her sleepwear and slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a blue sports bra. As it displayed her carefully-maintained physique, the outfit was likely to attract some boorish attention on the street, including a few racial comments regarding “Asian exoticism,” though phrased less delicately. The attire was functional, however, which was the only thing that mattered.

Initially, it had been difficult to adjust to the presence of another being in her room, but Pollen had insisted that changing in front of her was no different than doing so in front of a pet because they were not even the same _kind_ of being. Kagami couldn't argue with that simple logic and acknowledged that her feelings had been irrational. The first few times were awkward, but when the kwami showed no signs of embarrassment whatsoever, the matter resolved itself.

The young woman arranged herself on the yoga mat spread out on her floor. After quieting her thoughts and leveling out her breathing in Bhadrasana to start the day in the proper mind-space and clear the lingering vestiges of fatigue, she ranged through a regular routine, the only pose with which she struggled slightly, as usual, was Mayurasana, the Peacock.

Reaching her favored jogging route would have taken Kagami quite some time but “Mitsubachi” arrived only a few minutes after vaulting from her bedroom window. Every one of those minutes was precious if she wanted to complete her exercises in time to reach Marinette for, presumably, an impromptu breakfast of breads and orange juice.

The ensuing morning run went much as expected. Exhilarating. Exhausting. Burning. Frustrating. While more sparsely populated than it would be later in the day, the green space through which she was running still housed a few unsavoury individuals; she drew a cat-call as she passed a raucous pair of painfully _male_ teens who egged each-other on while they were, presumably, on their way to school.

Puerile nonsense. Nothing that should have pricked at her temper, but it did nonetheless.

Despite her original intentions, she spent a few extra minutes luxuriating in the shower when she got home just to cool her ire, letting the heat soak into her muscles while she savoured the scent of her rosemary soap and the sensation of being washed clean, the heavy spray from the shower sluicing sweat and grime from her body. A quick check of her cell phone once she emerged, toweling off her hair, assured her that Marinette had received her message and was on her way. 

Why was Marinette up so early, at least for her? Whatever the reason, it would be pleasant to see her. It seemed as if, with Kagami's expanded responsibilities as Mitsubachi, she had precious few opportunities to interact with the other girl these days.

After slipping into her school uniform, she paused to examine herself. While from experience, she knew to expect some untoward and unwanted attention on her runs, and at other times as well given that she was well aware of the fetishes surrounding a "Japanese school girl," she frowned at the figure that stood before her in the mirror.

The fine definition of her lean calf muscles was obliterated by the black leggings that preserved her modesty, while the thick overcoat that was part of her school uniform rendered her torso blocky and ill-defined, the breadth of her already muscular shoulders expanded to the point of masculinity. Compounding the issue, a carefully-monitored diet had prevented her from seeing much impact from puberty, though it was still on-going. Testing the way in which her dark shirt fell by tracing along its edge, she passed her collarbone and muscle to find only a hint of a curve.

What was there that interested those boys?

Turning from her own image, she tucked the bee miraculous into her breast pocket as Pollen climbed in beside it. Then, she was bounding downstairs, checking her watch to find, with relief, that she had just enough time to make it to the 7:00 meeting with Marinette.

She made it as far as the front entryway. Tomoe Tsurugi stood before the door, head cocked towards the stairwell with a frown, tapping her bokken to the floor with the precision of a mechanical clock, ticking away.

“You missed your morning exercises,” she said simply, without actually looking at her daughter. Others might have mistakenly attributed that to her vision impairment, but Kagami was well aware that her mother knew exactly where she stood.

They both knew exactly where they stood.

“What were you doing?”

Of course her mother wouldn't know that her daughter had left for her morning run through the window.

Stupid. Emotional. She should have thought of that and transformed in a nearby alley.

“I extended my session of Yoga this morning as I am working to improve my flexibility as opposed to my endurance.”

“That is no better than having ignored your exercises entirely,” Tomoe replied, rounding on her daughter, her dark sunglasses even and blank as they always were, giving nothing away. ”You are to adhere to the workout regime that you have been proscribed until I say otherwise.”

Pollen was vibrating angrily against Kagami's chest, the buzz so loud and harsh that it almost felt like a cell-phone going off next to her breast. How could her mother, who had honed her hearing, not hear it?

“It will not happen again,” Kagami assured her, trying to settle her kwami with her even tone and a light pat to her jacket.

“You will never live up to your potential or your legacy,” her mother almost spat that word, as if it tasted as bitter to her as it did to Kagami, if only at moments like these, “if you continue to shirk your responsibilities. Your absences from school and tutoring sessions have not gone unnoticed. I may be blind, but I am not stupid or ignorant.”

“I understand, mother.” Of course a few absences and poor excuses to grapple with akuma would be noticed. And punished.

“Do you really?” Tomoe challenged with a final resounding, harsher tap of her bokken, the movement finally stilling.

“You needn't repeat your earlier threat.” Kagami shook her head and bowed deferentially at the waist.

“You misunderstand our positions. I do not threaten,” Tomoe clarified. “As your mother, I set expectations that you are to follow. If you ignore them, then I will begin to suspect that the company that you are now keeping has proven to be a poor influence on you.”

A burst of white hot anger had her baring her teeth in a way that was even more unnatural than her earliest attempts at smiling. She could only be grateful that her mother couldn't see it. How dare she suggest that Marinette and Adrien were “poor influences!” If anything, they had...

They had taught her what it was to have a friend. What it was to be accepted, which she had never thought to want because the very experience was foreign to her. What it was to feel... “normal” even when none of them quite was, her least of all.

“My friends have been very accommodating,” Kagami insisted, holding her bow, even though it was irrational because her mother couldn't see it. Kagami _hated_ being irrational. “Adrien is a challenging opponent who forces me to better myself.”

That wasn't true. Neither of them _forced_ her to better herself. They made her want to be better.

“Does he?” Did her mother have to question everything in that sardonic tone? The wooden training sword flipped in her hand so that she was holding it out horizontally before her body, directed at Kagami like an accusatory finger. “Or has he been holding you back because you fail to push yourself due to your feelings for him?

“I can assure you, mother, that I know that nothing is more important than winning in order to uphold our family honor.” Of course, she didn't say that was true for her.

“Then act like it,” her mother retorted, “or I will reconsider your relationships. People who hold you back are _not_ your friends.”

It was quite the reverse: her friends were people who lifted her up.

“Of course, mother. I will be wary of disappointments. Now may I depart for school?”

“You sound eager, Kagami,” her mother observed keenly, “and it is slightly early. Are you perhaps not going directly to school?”

Tomoe Tsurugi often appeared to have hearing that rivalled that of Chat Noir, and a keen sense for others' auras and the minute fluctuation in their tones. Those senses bordered on the otherworldly, allowing her to defeat her daughter with relative ease, despite her lack of sight. Of course she would hear the emotion that lay behind Kagami's carefully-measured voice.

“I am meeting with a friend briefly. Rest assured that I will not be late to class.”

“Is this friend _Adrien_?” her mother asked with suspicion.

“No mother,” Kagami said softly, stroking a hand across her red plaid tie to smooth it out because of a sudden desire to make herself appear more proper and presentable. “You may recall Marinette?”

“The girl from that friendship game?” Tomoe burst out in with a hint of surprise as she readjusted her sunglasses – one of her few and rare “tells.”

“Yes,” Kagami began. _The_ girl, but had she given away too much just by her ill-concealed eagerness? With her senses now properly attuned, probing for weakness in Kagami's cool facade, Tomoe would detect a untruth. “She has been very helpful in teaching me how to improve my relationship with Adrien.”

“Ah, well. I suppose that does make sense,” Madame Tsurugi conceded. “I can make some allowances for your boyfriend, as Gabriel is a valued business partner. Very well, you may go.”

With that, Tomoe pressed her bokken to the ground, feeling her way by Kagami who had to struggle to keep herself from reacting to the hasty dismissal. The slow clack of Madame Tsurugi's walking stick against the floor retreated into the kitchen.

Suppressing the huff that she was well-aware that her mother would hear, likely starting another quasi-argument, Kagami slipped out of the door and strode towards the sidewalk, settling her school bag more comfortably on her shoulder. A quick check of her watch suggested that she would be late to meet Marinette, which drew a scowl.

“My Queen, may I speak?” Pollen inquired, her head poking out from Kagami's pocket as the girl increased her pace to a power walk in order to make up time. Fortunately, the little kwami would look like a dongle or toy to passersby.

She nodded once, granting the bee permission to continue as she afixed a Bluetooth headset to her ear. Even if the street was sparsely populated, it wouldn't do for people to see her talking to herself.

"Just be certain that no one can overhear you when you do."

The kwami hummed.

“There comes a time in the life cycle of a hive when a larval queen becomes too large and must depart in order to ensure her survival and that of the Mother queen.”

They came to an intersection and had to wait as a lorry passed them by, wasting yet more time.

“Be that as it may, I am not of age. Speculations in that regard are worthless,” Kagami said with steely, practised indifference because she had to tell herself the same thing whenever her mind wandered in that direction. She was so tired of telling herself that. Of being patient. It was hideous _hesitation_ , as her opponent scored touch after touch - a wait of years before she could strike at last.

“I'm sorry, my Queen.” The little kwami's buzzing voice dropped an octave and warbled as she pulled her fallen head into the pocket, her next words coming out muffled by the fabric. “I should not have presumed. It was not my place.”

Kagami sighed and relented. Whatever her frustrations, it was not right to inflict all those emotions that her mother would not tolerate on her kwami.

“You should not apologize,” she insisted. “You said nothing wrong. Simply because I cannot take your advice does not mean that it was not sound. I merely have to endure for a few more years.”

“As you say, my Queen.”

It was actually a relief that she had to wait for a moment as she outpaced a gaggle of school girls who were gossiping loudly about something that Kagami couldn't understand. Something juvenile, no doubt. When she left them behind and knew that it was safe, having had time to collect herself, she replied.

“No. You deserve the apology. _I_ am sorry, Pollen. You are right... I do want to start my own... hive as soon as I can.”

“You have the makings of a fine one, if I may say so,” the kwami offered tentatively. “Marinette is a strong worker. Very industrious, but she needs the guidance of a Queen to focus her, or she'll bumble about uselessly.”

“High praise, indeed, and warranted, of course. What of Adrien?” Kagami encouraged in a soft voice, withdrawing half a cookie from the Ziploc in an easily accessed pouch in her bag to slide it into her pocket.

“Oh! He is a very handsome drone.” The bee wiggled excitedly. Kagami could feel it against her fingers as little nubby hands took the treat from her. How forgiving the little creature could be. Did she understand the apology? The reasons?

“Adrien-” the kwami mumbled around her cookie, then fell silent before releasing a slight slurping sound. “Apologies, my Queen.”

“Quite alright,” Kagami replied.

The park was now visible in the distance, a few small children with their doting mothers already forging their way into the green space.

“Adrien,” the kwami continued, “will give you many pretty larvae before winter comes and you push him out of the hive, leaving him to freeze to death as you cuddle up with the rest with your workers.”

That... expansive metaphor had Kagami jerk to a stop in the middle of an intersection to stare down at her own chest, which likely drew a small amount of concerned attention to her and no doubt frustrated the motorist who was waiting at the stop sign for her to cross. The little kwami sounded so chipper about it, too.

“I'm not entirely certain that the analogy can be applied in human terms,” Kagami said, making for the park again while waving off the middle-aged crossing-guard who had just started to make her way towards the school girl who had simply frozen in the middle of the street.  
  
“Well, my Queen,” Pollen continued officiously. “Males have their place. They help to generate necessary heat, but they can't do the work of a female.”

In the beat of silence that followed, the low buzz of Pollen's sub-vocalizations revved up and trilled.

“You are teasing me, are you not?” Kagami asked. Tension pulled her brow taut, distorting the roundness of her features and making her appear slightly more angular, as she raised a brow.

“Not about the fact that males are _very_ useful on occasion,” Pollen assured. “And you, like Ladybug, will find that winter chills will require you to cuddle up with your hive.”

“You seem to delight in my arrangement. You do not find it strange?”

“A Queen takes many mates. We have much to do to collect the dozens more that you will need.”

On entering the park through the wide entryway, slipping by those mothers whom she had seen earlier and suppressing the instinctual sense of unease that overtook her whenever she even saw an infant, Kagami took in the winding asphalt path before her. The tree-shaded route deeper into the park culminated in an open sunny spot with some playground equipment and a terrace on which they had found Andre and tried a new combination of ice-cream. This time, Marinette had made the selection: Honeycomb, lime, and pistachio. The latter hadn't quite fit, but they were still experimenting, and they had all the time in the world to find a hundred combinations that worked well for them depending on their mood.

It was then that the kwami continued speaking, again in a hesitant tone.

“I am sorry that I cannot offer you better advice, my Queen... I know that I am not truly meant for you.”

“Explain,” Kagami commanded immediately.

“You miss Longg,” Pollen stated as a fact because they both knew that it was.

Kagami slid behind a tree, knowing full well that she was cutting even further into the limited time that she would have to spend with Marinette. With a slight shuffle, she checked to see that she was indeed concealed, and then teased open her pocket to find Pollen. Pulling the little kwami out into her hand, she saw that the creature was already starting up at her, wide-eyed, an expectant buzz building up.

“I do not believe that we are _meant_ for anyone. I choose who I am with. Not the kami or fate,” Kagami affirmed, mentally noting with dispassion the irony of asserting such to, functionally, a little goddess. “I will admit that though we only spent a few moments together, while we were transformed, I felt that Longg and I were connected.”

The kwami's buzz quieted but became almost painfully high-pitched, a noise almost outside of the human range of hearing but one that could still cause a headache.

“That said, you are my kwami because Ladybug gave you to me, but you are my friend because I chose to make you one,” Kagami assured. “I have very few of those, and I would not trade away any of them.”

The little bee kwami grinned in an uncharacteristic overturning of her generally proper bearing, her gleaming teeth offsetting the slow and pensive drooping of her thin antennae. Her fuzzy yellow fringe flared in a way that Kagami had not yet seen, though she rarely examined the kwami carefully enough to have taken note. She would have to correct that kind of oversight. Pollen was not simply a source of advice, or power, or freedom or a pet; she _was_ a friend.

She had to do a better job of treating the little Bee as such.

“I think that I understand, my Queen.” A tiny limb stroked over her fringe, almost like she was petting herself. “After all, I miss my former mistress, Chloe, as well.”

“Even after what she did to you?” Kagami blurted out. A slightly more quizzical slant twisted her brow, leaving her visage even more harsh and angular.

That kind of betrayal – of that which was right, of Chat Noir and Ladybug who were so painfully good, especially now that she had started to get to know them personally, and of Pollen, who was an innocent being twisted to the will of another, could not be tolerated.

How _could_ Chloe have betrayed Ladybug when she was a glowing paragon, cunning and brave, all the more so in light of those moments where she was clearly afraid? How could she stab Chat in the back when he looked like he could shatter from the slightest rebuke but always had a kind word regardless of how broken he was?

“Oh, yes,” Pollen assured, reaching out to Kagami with an arm. In an unsure response, Kagami slowly pressed her fingertip to the little nubby hand. “I love all my Queens, even if they have made mistakes.”

“That is a very selfless thing,” Kagami granted in a careful allowance that did not pass moral judgment either way. Selflessness could be noble sacrifice or simple masochistic self-immolation.

“Though I disagree,” she continued. “If someone mistreats you, you are well within your rights to sever them from your life.” When would it be acceptable to withdraw her finger from the kwami's grip? Was it like a handshake?

“Oftentimes we should, but even if we do, it can be very easy to love Queens who mistreat us without cause. As for me, though I still care for my former Queen, I have no desire to go back to my old hive, especially if there is a chance that I will be used for more mischief. Now that I know you, I would choose to be a part of yours.”

It was difficult to say whether the kwami was merely referring to herself. Such insinuations often escaped Kagami and left her grasping at nothing when it came to social interactions. The kwami's natural tendency to allegorize events into apian metaphors made interactions an even greater strain, though the little bee was clearly a source of wisdom regarding human relationship.

“I am glad to hear that, Pollen. I very much appreciate the opportunities that you have given to me.”

The chance to get away from the estate and work out all that rage that bubbled beneath the surface among them. There was a reason that she was so easily akumatized after seeing Lila with Adrien and leaping to rash conclusions.

“And it has been my pleasure to serve you, my Queen,” Pollen assured before floating down into Kagami's schoolbag.

And with that, Kagami jogged the rest of the way to the park bench where she knew that Marinette awaited her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomoe, like her daughter, is blunt in the extreme, with more world-weariness to strip away anything that might soften her. Bad-Parent Tomoe? Perhaps, but, as with Gabriel, one must consider things from her perspective. Her daughter, who has been all-but "perfect" until only recently, has begun to spend time with friends, whom Tomoe insisted from the outset of their affiliation would "disappoint" her. Now, Kagami is beginning to miss appointments and tarnish her exceptional attendance record. What conclusion would a parent draw, even if it's articulated in the worst possible manner imaginable?
> 
> Light has been shed on the "argument" and "threat" that had Kagami in a foul mood only a few nights earlier. 
> 
> I did try to establish a dynamic between Pollen and Kagami that was in keeping with what we know of the kwami's character but that also reflected her greater familiarity, at this point, with Kagami. It should be clearly distinct from that which exists between Tikki and Marinette, though I am curious to know what people thought of the way in which they interacted. 
> 
> As for that next chapter, Marinette is a disaster gay, or maybe just a disaster on her date(s). She's also pretty intimidating when she has cause, but, for some, the impact of an anxiety attack can linger for quite a while.


	6. ...an’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, for promis’d joy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has breakfast with her girlfriend, and Ladybug an early “brunch” with Marinette's boyfriend. One goes well; the other does not. Adrien may not be the hero that Ladybug wants right now, but he might be the hero whom she needs. 
> 
> Chat and Ladybug are somewhat distracted during an akuma battle, but that won't stop Chat Noir from being a terrible flirt for more reasons than Ladybug can understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Beware of another anxiety attack in this chapter. 
> 
> Marinette is still under a tremendous load of cares, and one that she didn't even know that she had is going to make itself known.
> 
> Also shameless fluff and flirting balanced by angst and pain.

Simply because Kagami was aware that her Marinette was waiting for her did not, however, mean that she was actually prepared to see her.

The young woman had settled herself on a park bench in the outer edge of the shade cast by a particularly robust tree. Arrayed around her was a small spread of baked goods featuring a few saran-wrapped slices of various breads and some croissants, along with a smattering of condiments. They sat atop a picnic blanket folded into a quarter-sized mat that covered the middle of the bench, leaving a space on the right for Kagami herself. A pink thermos rested on the ground between the other girl's feet.

And the girl herself.

Kagami stumbled mid-run and had to right herself.

Marinette had her hair down.

Since that day involving a ball pit and ice-cream when Kagami realized that another girl could look “beautiful” and _everything_ changed, the only other times that Marinette had loosed her hair, she, Kagami, and Adrien were in a more intimate setting. This was the first time since that day that Kagami could appreciate the sight in the open, free from other distractions while Marinette did something as simple and everyday as sitting on a park bench.

The hair framed her face, obliterating her typically adorable quasi-juvenile appearance, and somehow gave fuller definition to her features, shifting them from soft to fine. The parting of hair just off-centre of her forehead now seemed to highlight the gentle sweep of her bangs as she tucked a wisp behind her ear, the wind catching the rest and setting the fluid strands fluttering. Her neck, properly framed, was less gangly; more ... arching and elegant.

Regal.

Like a princess.

That was it.

That was it exactly.

“Kagami!” Marinette enthused with a wave and a spreading smile, the greeting drawing Kagami closer without any truly conscious thought.

“I wasn't sure you were going to make it.” The biracial girl beckoned Kagami towards the open space and began unwrapping packets of bread. Even though several of them appeared slightly dry, and they were not fresh from the oven, their aroma was still strong, scents of banana and buttery pastry wafting up to Kagami's nose.

“I am sorry for the delay. My mother wished to speak with me before I left for the day,” Kagami replied as she took the seat prepared for her.

Setting down a few knives next to the small Tupperware containers of honey and jam, Marinette frowned slowly and turned to look Kagami in the eyes.

That was more of an imperious, rather than a regal, expression, a restrained flare bursting behind the girl's eyes, and it had Kagami pause as she was retrieving a scone.

“And what did she have to say this morning?” Marinette ground out the question, her head lowering so that her loosed hair fell forward.

“It was an old argument,” Kagami responded and tore off a small piece of a rather golden-brown croissant, small flecks of pastry flaking off as she raised it to her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “I would rather not revisit it once again.”

With a nod and a smile that was unusual for Marinette, though Kagami had difficulty with expressions so she could not quite tell why, the other girl relented.

“Okay.” Marinette leaned down to retrieve her thermos, unscrewing the pink top. Thick and pulpy, vibrant orange juice poured out into the cap, and Marinette downed it like a shot with an aggressive jerk.

“But if you do want to talk about it, or about anything, or you just need to get something off your chest, please let me know,” she finished as she refilled the cap and handed it over to Kagami.

Was this an “indirect kiss” of the sort that Adrien mentioned, she wondered as she tipped the orange juice into her mouth. The sweetly-acidic liquid washed over her taste buds, leaving her lips slightly sticky as she chewed instinctively on the pulp, a few flecks getting caught in her teeth for a moment.

If so, it paled in comparison to the one they'd shared through ice-cream, and was distinctly inferior to the direct variety.

Still, one made do with what one had, she rationalized as she returned the cap to Marinette.

“You know,” Marinette added softly, pointing at the scone that Kagami was now plucking from the bench, “those go better with jam or butter. I've got some raspberry, and some honey, if you're interested.”

“That is most kind of you, Marinette. Thank you for inviting me to breakfast, and for preparing it.”

A clenching wave of Marinette's hand dismissed the suggestion.

“Oh, it's just yesterday's leftovers from the bakery. Nothing special.”

Really? What a ridiculous girl.

One of the nicest things about _basic_ flirting was that it was actually somewhat easy to grasp, unlike most other social interactions. There were some complexities regarding timing and counter-flirts, and subtler innuendo, but that made it kind of like sparring in a way: thrust, feint, parry, deflection, touch, point, victory. Of course, it was “victory” win or lose.

“You do seem to insist on that,” Kagami sighed as she scrapped a knife coated in raspberry jam over the edge of her scone. “I suppose that I will simply have to keep reminding you that you are complete wrong in that respect. Breakfast is special because _you_ are entirely special.”

Marinette was special.

Marinette was precious.

Marinette looked _gorgeous_ with her hair down. Kagami said as much and it had Marinette floundering and properly distracted.

Nothing but obvious truths, stated directly. Flirting.

That tiny flush that spread down Marinette's neck was a point in Kagami's favour, as thrilling as any she could score with a blade when competing.

“Bunny-” Marinette croaked, thrusting one of the small Tupperware containers under Kagami's nose. Inside the plastic, golden yellow slices of butter ran in a precise line. “I mean butler- _butter_! For... loaf- uh- _honey_ loaf!”

“Thank you, Marinette,” Kagami replied with a nod. “That would be lovely.”

Savoring Marinette's flushed and stuttering incoherence for a moment longer, Kagami plucked the butter from her hands and laved a thin layer over one of the slices of honey loaf. Savoury sweetness balanced on her tongue as she chewed the slightly spongy bread, crunching through some sparse hazelnuts.

“I-” The slight sticky remainder of the loaf in her mouth had Kagami passing her tongue behind her teeth. “I did not expect to hear from you this morning, and you rose quite early. Is everything alright?”

The other girl's face pinched up, wiping clear the uncertainty and stilling Marinette's rather adorable fidgeting.

“I didn't have the best night's sleep, and I really wanted to see a friend.” Without setting down the half-eaten croissant that she had been nursing, she snaked her hand between them.

There, between the breads and baked goods, right over the little container of honey, Kagami brought her fingertips to Marinette's, ghosting her way down the other girl's hand in a gentle stroke.

“Then I am happy that I was able to be here for you,” Kagami assured, somewhat uncertainly, with a nod.

Marinette shuddered, the tiny perturbations rocking through her hand, and it become obvious that Kagami had done _something_ wrong. Even she could tell that.

“I'm sorry,” she said because that might have been appropriate and she felt it so why not say it?

“What?” Marinette replied with a slight tightening of her grip. Their calluses mingled and scraped, finding the right grooves and fit to accommodate the rough patches at the base of each one of Kagami's fingers and the tips of Marinette's digits, roughened by a thousand cuts and pin-pricks.

“I'm sorry,” Kagami repeated. A slight uncomprehending head-shake was the only response that she received. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You shouldn't be sorry. I'm sorry!” The girl's hand slid from Kagami's grip to waggle about in a frantic denial, and Kagami really would have rathered that she just kept holding on. That would have been a more comforting assurance.

“Whatever for?” Kagami questioned. While Marinette's words oftentimes tumbled out in an incoherent rush, she was not typically so imprecise.

Bread crumbs and pastry flakes had caught throughout her skirt, falling into the pleats, and she took a moment to brush them away, half rising to let gravity help. She was still hovering just off her seat, focused on picking the most stubborn crumbs out of the creases, when Marinette rose and stood in front of her, pulling her up the rest of the way.

And then she enfolded Kagami into her arms, their bodies brought flush together by a surprisingly strong grip, and the Japanese prodigy felt her pulse quicken. Even though Kagami already knew it, Marinette was clearly the more well-developed of the two of them. The delicate odour of vanilla typically associated with Marinette was replaced by a floral perfume, dabbed along her neck in a few spots that now rested just under the fencer's chin. The scent was powerful, incongruous and alluring in its own right. Slow circles were drawn along Kagami's lower back by one of Marinette's hands.

This was... love. As if love was something you could cocoon yourself in. Not erotic. Not even romantic. Not in this moment. Thus Kagami hadn't the name for it or even the sensations of Marinette's soothing motions and the tight grip that nearly hurt but she had no desire to break.

“I'm sorry for letting you down yesterday,” Marinette's mumble sent a cascade of breath over Kagami's neck and it had her shivering. “You were hurting and I didn't see it.”

The grip around Kagami's back loosened as Marinette pulled back, the hug having lasted just slightly too long for it to appear 'friendly.'

“Marinette, there's nothing to apologize for.” Kagami began softly. The material of Marinette's jacket was rough against her hands as she trailed them down to the other girl's wrists and held her at arms length so that she could look her in the eye. “I've seen you at your worst, as when you were speaking about me behind my back with Alya.”

That little tremor in Marinette's body increased, and it was matched by the high whine from Kagami's schoolbag, which was, Kagami believed, fortunately outside of Marinette's range of hearing.

“But you at your worst are still one of the best people that I've ever met,” she assured. “You helped me the moment that you knew something was wrong. You and Adrien cared enough to help. You don't need to be perfect. I am not, and Adrien is not, but you accept us regardless.”

She seemed to mull over that for a moment before an awkward smile that reminded Kagami more of herself when she practised in the mirror, but was in no way mocking, crossed Marinette's face and it was so ridiculous that it drew a subtle laugh from the fencer. That was much better.

“Well, his smile kind of is,” she said with that quirky grin never faltering.

“Photoshop, I assure you,” Kagami stressed flippantly. “His teeth aren't that perfect. Trust me. I've had my tongue in his mouth.”

At that, Marinette released a coughing chuckle and smacked a palm over her eyes, covering half the laugh lines that spread across her cheeks.

“Hopefully you won't mind if I collect more data and demonstrate it to you conclusively on Saturday,” Kagami continued. Of course, Marinette saw him every day and had the same evidence on which to draw.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Marinette affirmed, though the ambiguous distortion of her features suggested that she was caught between abashment and lingering concern. “I think that we need to have a serious conversation, though.”

That was a rapier-touch to an unprotected heart, and the fear that bubbled up in her belly had her set her jaw to avoid a frown.

“I am always prepared for a serious conversation,” Kagami assured. “If you feel that we need it. Can you tell me what it is about?”

“I-” Marinette scratched at her forehead and actually looked slightly ashamed at what she was about to say. “I would like to spend more time together.”

Ah. The duties imposed on Kagami by the miraculous and her mother's intensive, regular training, along with violin lessons and archery, were taking a great deal of her time. She was neglecting her responsibilities as a “friend.” That was fair and rectifiable.

“Saturday?” she asked, shifting her tone to be as gentle as she could make it, though it still rang mechanically in her own ears.

From around the bend in the path that led into the shaded circle of benches came a gaggle of mothers and small children, screeching wildly and giggling as they roughhoused and scampered about their mothers' feet and raced to the treeline and back. How utterly unpleasant, and a groan built up in Kagami's throat as she pulled back from Marinette to a fully respectable distance. 

“I was thinking about Saturday,” Marinette replied with some trepidation, though she smiled, pure and genuine, when one little girl barked out an enthusiastic, piercing and slightly-slurred hello in their direction. In reply, Marinette raised her hand high above her head and waved, matching the child's energy in her friendly encouragement. While passing them, one of the mothers nodded a greeting and then trailed after the girl who was racing off to some of the playground equipment in the distance.

Would Marinette want children one day? They hadn't discussed it. Likely so. Most ... normal women did. Pollen's comments on “beautiful larvae” rang in her head.

“But Saturday is supposed to be for fun,” Marinette finished as she turned away from the rambunctious child.

“I find spending time with you to be 'fun' regardless of what we're doing.” Kagami offered her the best smile that she could. “And there are many things in life more important than fun – you and Adrien, for instance.”

“Thank you for being willing to talk about this, Kagami.” Marinette played with the stitching around her cuffs. “I... I want to make sure that everything works for all of us – as good friends.”

“I truly appreciate that friendship, Marinette, and your offer of breakfast. We should try to arrange to do it more often.” She captured Marinette's hand once again, moving it gently away from her sleeve, the crux of her thumb finding purchase in the little divot between Marinette's knuckles, tracing slow patterns along her skin, feeling the delicate bone structure underneath.

_Her eyes are so blue._

Kagami blessed French cultural traditions, leaning in to Marinette's personal space and delighting in that look as her eyes swivelled in their sockets to fixate, if Kagami judged her gaze correctly, on Kagami's mouth. A low warble built up inside of Marinette's throat. Then, redirecting the angle of her attack at the last moment, Kagami drew her lips softly over her girlfriend's quivering cheek.

“May you have a wonderful day,” she began as she pulled back slightly before her voice lowered. “Mari-hime.”

That came out in a whisper that left Kagami herself breathless with the electric tingle of just saying it again, making her painfully aware of the softness of Marinette's cheek while recalling the greater tenderness of her lips that she couldn't be allowed to feel right now.

The rest of the day really didn't seem all that bad, even though she was late for class

* * *

That “date,” though it lasted only a few minutes, was exactly what she needed, Marinette affirmed to herself as she strode from the park, the remnants of her breakfast stuffed into a reusable shopping bag.

Years of experience allowed her to fix her pigtails while waiting at a red light.

If anything was worth getting up before 7:00 – which was _unholy_ , but nonetheless - it was the simple experience of settling down with her girlfriend, boyfriend, or both. Kagami's blunt flirts and her openness just seemed to set everything right, even if all those nebulous problems were still hanging over her. At least it didn't _feel_ like they were.

The opportunity to complete the second, major part of her 'plan' and provide Adrien with a “temporary” miraculous, just to avoid the pressure of inviting him into the fold on a permanent basis immediately, came sooner than she had expected.

She reasoned with herself that, once Adrien regained the confidence that he had lost after trying to deal with Desperada, they could ease him into the team. The experience still weighed on him as failure always did. It had to. He hadn't lived up to _expectations_ and that stayed with him, especially when he had been so clearly eager to support Ladybug, spending at bare minimum _weeks_ trying to save her with second chances.

She couldn't truly help him when it came to his “failure” to live up to Gabriel's standards, but she _could_ do something when it came to Ladybug.

Besides, Kagami was right; Chat might actually quite like having another male member of the team, especially one who shared his sense of humour, while Adrien should have the chance to cut loose.

While departing her impromptu meeting with her girlfriend, miraculous box tucked into her bag next to a fretting Tikki, Marinette halted in her hurried scuttle towards Collège Françoise Dupont to _stare_.

A massive, thick-set three-headed anthropomorphic dog wearing a pink... kilt of some sort burst out of a hair salon, crowing about its desperate desire for revenge against Chloe Bourgeois. The creature took off in a low, loping run, pedestrians ducking and dodging out of the way, causing several minor traffic accidents as it weaved in and out of the street.

...

There was a story there, to be sure. It probably made as much sense as the ones around a pigeon man and a thirty-foot-tall baby.

Where did Hawkmoth find these people?

Heck, where did Chloe find these people?

Eschewing direct conflict until at least one of her partners showed up, or the creature actively tried to harm anyone, Ladybug trailed the akuma from afar. Eventually, it lumbered by the front steps of Collège Françoise Dupont.

There, standing just outside the main entrance, likely waiting for 'Marinette' to arrive, was Adrien. If that wasn't divine providence, Marinette didn't know what was. After all, an angel, complete with golden hair haloing his head, was right there when she needed him. Though he stood stock still, grimacing in bewilderment as the massive akuma meandered by him, the boy's stupor lasted only a moment before he broke for a nearby alley.

Smart boy, hiding like that.

The moment that he entered the alleyway, his hand on the edge of his vest as if he was looking into his front pocket, Ladybug dropped down before him, causing him to start and yelp in shock.

“L-Ladybug!” he exclaimed as he smashed his jacket closed.

That rare flushed and flustered look on his face made Marinette positively tingle.

With an apologetic smile, she checked over his shoulder to make certain that no other civilians were watching and then pulled the unresistant, though stumbling, boy deeper into the alleyway. The section they now entered was slightly dingy with a smattering of graffiti along the brickwork around them and some discarded cardboard boxes hemming them in on the side, but the atmosphere almost made the interaction seem taboo. It almost felt like they were meeting up in secret so that she could drag him into a dark corner to make out with him...

Okay. She was definitely on a bit of an endorphin high after this morning and, also, because of that look on his face.

That was not the right thing to be thinking at the moment. She just had to remember her prepared speech. She could do this. After all, she wasn't nearly so bad at spazing out these days now that, to use Kagami's turn of phrase from earlier this morning, she'd had Adrien's tongue in her mouth a few times.

“Adrien Agreste,” she said and squeezed his hand, which she was still holding. “I am offering you a miraculous temporarily to aid us against Hawkmoth's akuma.”

Eight out of ten on delivery thus far. She forgot to say _which_ miraculous, but he'd see that in a second.

Adrien was a gentle soul. It had been a mistake to place the burden of the snake miraculous on him when all that he wanted in life was affirmation; he simply couldn't let go of failure. Adrien needed a miraculous better suited to his stylish flair, his hidden, mischievous personality, and his sadly well-developed ability to project a false front.

Adrien was a Fox.

She chewed her lip as she stared at him expectantly, miraculous box extended in the open palm of her free hand.

Convenient double entendre intended.

His face was grim as he reached out to pluck the box from her hand and stared. 

“When the battle is over, you must be willing to relinquish the miraculous to me,” she said with a gentle smile, even though she had no doubts that Adrien would do exactly that. He was so serious in that moment, his face pinching up, surely because of his lingering concerns regarding his past “failure” as Aspik. A successful tour of duty with another miraculous would do him good. Perhaps it might finally allow him to forgive himself.

Maybe it would let her forgive _herself_ for putting him through months of torture...

Was this just another act of selfishness that she simply hadn't recognized?

“Will you help me to defend Paris?” she pressed to try to drown out the thought, and was shocked at just how much she needed him to say 'yes' to her as eagerly as he had last time.

To show that he still trusted her – both sides of her.

The boy didn't look up at her. At that point she would take the radiant but insincere model smile, though she longed for the genuine one he'd given her when he'd first received the snake, but he simply seemed to gawk, a flicker of undefinable emotions, the only one of which she could recognize was guilt, passing over his face.

Her smile began to falter and broke when he turned the box over in his hand and held it back to her.

“I'm sorry, Ladybug,” he said with clear contrition that had Ladybug's heart clenching because whatever had happened, it was her fault for offering him the miraculous. “I want to help you. Truly I do, but the best way that I can do that... is by turning you down.”

No. And just like that, the progress that she made on her “date” was gone, that sense of peace and accomplishment a puff of smoke in a whirlwind.

”It's not the snake!” she vomited in a rush. “Don't worry. Not again.”

The fine boyishness of his face was wiped away when his dimples disappeared in the harsh lines of a frown, and he looked ... old all of a sudden.  
  
“It doesn't matter.”

“Why?” Ladybug all but whispered as her unwitting boyfriend deposited the miraculous box in her palm and pushed her fingers closed around it, holding her tiny fist within his much larger hand.

“Adrien, I know you.” And she really wanted to scream _I know you and you know me so please help me!_ “You're a good person. The kind of person who I need fighting with me because I can trust you.”

She'd never see that joy on his face when accepting a miraculous again.

She could never fix it.

She'd ruined everything.

“Ladybug,” he replied, pulling away and putting a hand to the brick wall of the alley to support himself and hide his eyes. In that moment before he succeeded, they were seething swirl of unstable emotion, shining and glassy with frustrated tears. What the hell had she done?

“I don't mean to sound harsh, but we don't have the time,” he said in a detached tone that she'd never heard from him before. “You shouldn't offer me a miraculous again. I know that I'm not right for any of them.”

Even if she hadn't been safely bound up in her super-suit, a nigh-indestructible weave of magic, she felt that it would have been less painful had he physically punched her in the gut. It wasn't that he was rejecting her, but it _was_.

“I- I understand, Adrien,” she stumbled, arm falling limp at her side, a “marionette” with her strings cut. “I shouldn't have bothered you with this.”

“You could _never_ bother me, Ladybug,” he responded immediately, his expression earnest as he turned back to her, and her heart twinged at the sound because his voice rang with a pain that mirrored hers. Even in pain, he was as beautiful as ever as he rent his hand through the prim lines of his hair, scattering it into a dishevelled mess.

“It's not a bother and it is _not_ your fault,” he insisted, rounding on her to take her shoulders in his hands. The grip was iron, desperate, so much so that his strength was almost shocking- felt even through her suit. “Please understand: it's mine. I'm just not the hero that you want me to be.”

That grip, that palpable heartache, and that look – she caused that.

It was all her fault exactly as Tikki had predicted when she said that yet another one of her nonsensical plans would go awry and hurt not just her, the only person who deserved it due to her rash insistence that she knew better than others, which was clearly not true because she was a fool like she always was, but also the boy that she loved and the girl too when she saw what Marinette had done to him and all the pastries and loosed hair in the world would never-

Adrien's palm was on her cheek. The flesh was smooth and familiar. It was exactly how he'd held Marinette. A thumb stroked along the side of her nose and under her eye tentatively.

“Ladybug?” he intoned.

Because she couldn't see that pain again, her eyes shut tight against him.

The grip on her shoulder relaxed to a feather-touch, slow circles being stroked along her upper arm, his right hand now tracing the edges of her mask.

“It's going to be alright, Ladybug,” he said from the darkness beyond her eyelids. “I'm here for you.”

Of course he was. He always was. Just like Kagami. Just like her parents. Just like Chat Noir.

“Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, and regretted it because it forced him to take his hand away for a moment and destabilized the world before she pressed back into him.

“I just - just stay here for a minute, okay?”

“I'll stay for as long as you need,” that gentle, sincere voice of the boy who loved her affirmed. A thumb ran soothing patterns along the edge and side of her mask, smooth, constant, and easy. “You can cry, Ladybug. You can do whatever you need, okay?”

Two in as many days; that had almost _never_ happened. It was pathetic.

Had it really gotten this bad?

When?

Was it because she was getting older? Emotional disorders often manifested at different times. They could grow worse of better with age, depending on the condition.

How much worse could it get?

Could she live with that? Could she still be Ladybug or the Guardian or-  
  
“Ladybug? Can you look at me?”

Tentative, almost afraid that she might find the vestiges of pain in his face, she flicked her gaze to his face.

That face. Those eyes, filling with tears of worry and compassion and gentleness and all those things that made Adrien the boy that she had fallen in love with in the rain. That desperate smile just for her.

“There you go, Ladybug. That's it,” he soothed with a slow, encouraging tilt of his head and a slight shuffle so that he appeared slightly less tall.

She could only clutch at his upper arm in response.

“I'm right here with you, milady” he continued, his words measured and sure. “No matter what happens. I'm not going to leave you for anything.”

The quick, hiccuping breaths she hadn't even recognized to try to control began to slow with his even, relaxed tone, and his hand trailed from her shoulder to her hand in a lingering, soothing stroke. It tingled, muted by the super-suit, and he enfolded her hand with his own to draw it to his chest.

Even through her red, spotted gloves and his shirt, she could feel the warmth.

“That's it. Can you breathe with me?” His chest rose, held for a second, and fell.

She nodded, the hand that was still on her cheek scraping up and down with the motion, a finger falling lightly across the bridge of her nose.

“There we go. Just a big, slow breath. In through the mouth slow.” The hearty intake of air had his chest inflate under her hand. His heartbeat was there too, setting time in her mind. She could breathe to it, and he did. Five heartbeats in. Five heartbeats held. Five heartbeats out.

An exhalation under her hand, the puff of his breath, sweet with mint just like his ice-cream flavor, tickled her face, goosebumps prickling.

“And in again,” he said, coaxing her along.

Her fingers dug into his chest, but there was no withdrawal or wince of pain, just that steady look.

A model's smile grew across his face, and fake though it was, it was familiar, reminding her of all those magazines that she had horded during her obsessive phase.

The next breath out came in a sigh.

“And out again. There you go.”

His breathing remained steady, and it was only then that she realized where she was because up until that moment, her mind had been her entire world, and then he had been her entire world.

“I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.” That passionate conviction, that care that bordered on something that would make Marinette jealous and worried if it wasn't being directed at her, had the drumbeat of her heart slowing to near-normal. “I'm with you as long as you need.”

And he just breathed with her until she could breathe on her own.

“That's it,” he said at last, hand shifting. His lightly manicured fingers were so much longer than hers. Strange the things that you noticed.

“I- I'm so sorry, Adrien,” Ladybug said as she tugged herself free from his grip and the comforting sensation of his chest under her gloves. “I don't know what happened.”

“You don't have to apologize, Ladybug,” Adrien assured earnestly, stepping back to move beyond a few crushed cardboard boxes so that he could set his back to the alley wall and deflate. “Don't think that you do for a second.”

“You were- thank you for helping me.” There was a moment of renewed panic that sent a tingling lance of pain through her spine and lungs before she spotted the miraculous box on the ground. She would have never forgiven herself if she had lost another one.

“Of course.” He nodded. “I-uh... I have a friend who goes through the same kind of thing sometimes.”

She tried to conceal the nervous twitches by examining the miraculous box, suppressing the new, building fear that he had figured _it_ out. Did he know?

“If you can help her,” Ladybug whispered, “she's very lucky.”

“No. I'm the lucky one.” The boy would kill her one day if he kept being that sweet, but though he said it wistfully, there was something ... agonized about the glance that he threw in her direction before looking away hastily. ”I'm just glad that I could help you.”

“You did, Adrien,” Ladybug said softly, reaching out to take his hand and squeeze it. “It wasn't the help that I asked for, but it was the help that I needed.”

It was the aftershocks of an anxiety attack. The effects could linger for days, though everyone's response was different. Hers were _growing_ different.

This wasn't something that she could deal with – that any amount of well-intentioned internet research by Kagami or patient loving kindness from her boyfriend could address.

Damn, did it feel good to think that.

Just the idea made her feel lighter: that it wasn't something that she could handle so she should get help. An adult problem shouldn't be hers alone to deal with because she _wasn't_ an adult yet. She didn't have to try to be perfect and fix everything herself, or even just with Adrien and Kagami.

For the moment, at least, she had people to help shoulder her other burdens. Marinette wasn't really a religious person, but she thanked _God_ for Mitsubachi in the ensuing akuma battle: the newest hero had to carry her slack, and, for whatever reason unknown to her, Chat Noir's.

It was impossible to keep herself from staring appreciatively at her girlfriend while she worked because she felt like something solid that Marinette could hold on to – something stable that she really needed right now, after parting from Adrien.

Of course, her spirits fell when, after the Akuma had been purified, Chat Noir sauntered up to Mitsubachi, bowing deeply but somehow stiffly.

For whatever reason, he was ignoring Ladybug completely, _trying_ not to look at her, except for one or two furtive glances in her direction during the fight. 

“I can see you're the bee's knees, Mitsu,” Chat enthused as he took her palm. It wouldn't have bothered Ladybug so much if the look of confusion on Kagami's face hadn't been complimented by a hint of a blush, creeping out from under the edges of the girl's mask. “Ladybug and I are _terribly_ jealous, but I guess it was only a matter of time before we passed the honey-moon part of our relationship.”

It _still_ wouldn't have enraged her to the degree that it did had the cat not taken an inconspicuous glance at Mitsubachi's behind as she was leaving.

Petulance. Anger. It, too, was something on which she could focus. Something heavy and silly that she could wrap around her like a weighted blanket. It was a comforting distraction from ... all that complex emotional turmoil.

She'd still had the presence of mind to try to throw Adrien off the scent, if his comment about “a friend” had been an indication that he suspected something. Fortunately, she had the Fox miraculous on hand, and thus Ladybug made an appearance, swinging by overhead, as Marinette ducked around a corner, both of them in sight of Adrien simultaneously. The real Marinette dropped Trix's transformation, taking the place of her dispelled illusion just in time for Adrien to come skidding around the bend.

It gave her the chance to enfold Adrien into her arms to make sure that she, her boyfriend, and their girlfriend had gotten the hugs that all three of them needed. Judging from how tightly he clung to her, he _really_ needed it.

The hug settled her. She found that it was so easy to lose herself and silence her thoughts with the sensation of Adrien's warm, strong arms around her as she pressed her nose into his collar and just _breathed_ , long and deep, taking in the simple smell of his skin, and feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek.

Like she said to Alya, she wouldn't let her emotions convince her of things that weren't true.

Still, the rest of the week made her regret not sneaking in even more hugs when she had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["To a Mouse" by Robert Burns](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOpig_UaG7A&ab_channel=TimGracyk)
> 
> Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!  
> The present only toucheth thee:  
> But Och! I backward cast my e’e,  
> On prospects drear!  
> An’ forward tho’ I canna see,  
> I guess an’ fear!


	7. So happy together?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat meets his partners for an eventful patrol that relaxes, frustrates, and confuses him. 
> 
> Yet more stresses are added to Marinette's life at work, school, and “work,” as Ladybug has to grapple with a child-akuma. Chat is both unhelpful and helpful in that regard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine me and you, I do  
> I think about you day and night  
> It's only right  
> To think about the girl you love  
> And hold her tight  
> So happy together

Tuesday night began pleasantly enough for Chat Noir, despite the desperate hug he shared with a clearly-distressed Marinette, who assured him that she was just in a bad place mentally today, and the unexpected encounter between Ladybug and “Adrien.”

In a rare show of punctuality, the heroine arrived to patrol on time. After greeting Chat and Mitsubachi, who had waited only a few minutes, she took each of them aside in turn to apologize, once again, for her behaviours last patrol.

Chat had dug a boot-tip into the concrete bashfully, trying to hide the mingled embarrassment at her soft words and annoyance at himself. When she was finished, he took in a calming breath, stepped forward and, with his hand to her shoulder, simply told her that if there was anything in her life that had upset her, or if she ever needed _anything_ , she had people in this world who cared about her. She was still his best friend.

And she was, regardless of his conflicted feelings and his failure to show it properly.

The fact that Adrien had refused her because she truly needed Chat Noir made the assurance that he would be there for her taste bitter in his mouth, all the more because of how cute she looked: wide-eyed and stuttering in response to his heartfelt promise.

Then he hid behind some grandiose and excessive preening about his heroics, puffing up his chest and flexing. That ruined the mood, much to his relief, and had her rolling her eyes and * _booping_ * him on the nose.

The trio set out over the rooftops of Paris, Mitsubachi lightning quick and precise, and Chat twisting between leaps like an acrobat putting on a show, just in an effort to keep up appearances (and how he _hated_ playing a role as Chat Noir too). Ladybug, this time, was halfway between the two, keeping them on-task but loose, while Chat fretted and fumbled mentally.

Ladybug seemed more irritated than comforted when he butt in to her efforts to break up a mostly non-violent purse-grab. A flick of her yo-yo had the twitchy thief face-planting, his feet tangled in nigh-indestructible wire while Mitsubachi dropped in to scoop up the purse and return it to its startled owner without preamble. After a quick stop by a police cruiser, which Ladybug located using her yo-yo computer, both girls just looked at him weirdly when he started asking her if she was alright.

“I was once eaten by a dinosaur, Chat. I don't think I've been traumatized by a purse-snatcher.”

A point in the lady's favour.

That was really ridiculous on his part.

But he couldn't help it. It was almost impossible to tease out the threads of emotion from a complex web that he only just saw now, as if it was shimmering with dew in the morning sunlight.

Chat then suggested that they split to cover the remaining arcs of their patrol before meeting up again to report their findings. Caught by the need to get away, he started off on his own without even waiting for Ladybug's confused response.

The eventfulness of the ensuing twenty minutes helped keep his mind off things.

A gaggle of kids was smashing shop windows in an impoverished section of the city. They dispersed when he dropped in on them, caught, mid-flight, a hunk of concrete that they had lobbed, and Cataclysmed it. They seemed more startled than intimidated. Though they ran off, hurling insults that he would never repeat, they were laughing at his attempt at a threatening growl.

He got no respect.

Just to make his point, he beaned one of them with a _much_ smaller chunk of concrete – little more than a stinging pebble - as the punk was running away.

It took only a second for him to recharge Plagg, and while the kwami was eating, Adrien stepped out of the alley to note the names of the shops that would soon be receiving some anonymous donations. That would cut into Plagg's cheese budget, but the kwami would have to live with it.

With his section of the patrol done, he began to make his way back to his partners, and that brief trip, unfortunately, gave him time to think.

He was just... lost. That feeling of pressing Laduybug's hand to his heart, after spending months with his heart _in_ her hands, was unlike anything that Chat had experienced with her, outside of, perhaps, those few moments when they declared that it was “you and me against the world.”

He wanted to comfort her, to distance himself from her, to press her to him so that they could breathe together again and he could feel her hand on his chest, and to hate her because when they joined up again, she _again_ let her eyes linger a little too long on Kagami's svelte figure.

He must have been coming across as an insufferable tsundere, running hot and cold for seemingly no reason.

Having made good time due to Chat's idea of splitting up, Ladybug allowed them a half-hour to decompress on a rooftop and chat, their conversation ranging through a variety of “safe” subjects.

They arrayed themselves on the rooftop on which the patrol had begun, Ladybug sitting side-saddle on the the edge of the roof, kicked up one leg, knee to her chest, while the other dangled down over the street. As Chat settled on his back, propped up against the half-crumbling mason-work of a chimney, Mitusbachi set up atop a slightly raised potion of the roof, her feet against the slanted main level.

It took Chat some time to loosen up because he was just a hot mess, but the conversation flowed around him so easily that he was coaxed into relaxing.

Kagami loved orange juice. He already knew about her dates with Marinette, so that wasn't a surprise.

Chat preferred anime to western cartoons. Kagami mentioned that her boyfriend liked something titled _Sailor Moon_ , and Chat complimented his su _purr_ b taste.

Ladybug had had a crush on Jagged Stone when she was younger, and still found him kind of attractive. Mitsubachi hadn't really understood “attraction” until she met her partner, and boy did that puff him up. He was the first boy to turn her head, and Marinette, he assumed, the first girl.

Kagami liked mint chocolate chip ice cream. He'd remember that. Ladybug appreciated plain vanilla because it was versatile, complimenting pretty much any other dessert.

Chat couldn't stand “pushy” people – his least favourite kind of person. There was a visceral recollection of Lila, pressed sickeningly close to him, digging her claws into his arm as she let out that fake, knife-like laugh. Ladybug responded that she loathed liars, which everyone already knew, while Kagami mentioned that she couldn't tolerate people who wasted her time.

Ladybug's least favorite subject was math, tied with Physics.

What was wrong with Physics?

 _Physics_ , she had retorted simply.

Kagami kind of wanted to play a duet with “her boyfriend” but she wasn't sufficiently skilled with the violin.

He'd see about that.

Chat was convinced that the N64 was the greatest video game console ever produced. Kagami just looked confused. What was an “N64?”

The appalled expression on Ladybug's face almost had him laughing out loud.

Never mind the arcade. Obviously this grievous oversight had to be fixed.

Apparently, Ladybug came to the same conclusion, rising from her seat by the edge of the roof and then moving towards Adrien's girlfriend, who sidled over to make room for the heroine of Paris. Though there was ample space on the elevated platform, Ladybug plopped down practically inside the other girl's space. Sliding together, their latex-spandex-magic- _whatever_ super-suits squeaked out with the sound of rubber against rubber but at too high a pitch, it seemed, for either of them to hear it, and the sight and sound both had him grinding his teeth. His cat-ears flattened, almost disappearing into his hair.

Arm-to-arm with Kagami, Ladybug flipped open her communicator and began pointing at the screen with animated gestures as she raved over admittedly great games like _Mario Cart_ , _Rogue Squadron_ , and _Majora's Mask_. The pair pressed in tighter and “his lady” seemed to delight in Kagami's inquisitive questions and genuine interest and at one point, Mitsibachi even took the yo-yo from her, poking at it for a moment. Then, she quirked her head, seemingly baffled, while Ladybug flushed, and the distinctive sounds of that old _Smash Brothers_ trailer set to the [Turtles' “Happy Together” began playing.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqZ6sRHpWIk)

He pursed his lips.

Now he knew what those wailing, yowling cats he heard on occasion at night were on about, but he could only sit and stew as Ladybug practically rubbed herself all over his girlfriend, even going so far as to press a hand to her back and stroked - Could that be justifiably termed “fondled?” - the fine muscles of her shoulder as they played through a few other trailers.

This was a very weird and guilty place to be in given what happened yesterday, and those conflicting feelings had him frozen with indecision.

Finally, when he could take no more of their little “moment,” he grumbled, “Isn't it about time for us to be turning in?”

Ladybug started up and with an apology and a fumbling grab, she plucked her yo-yo out of Mitusbachi's hands.

“Shoot!” She winced and nodded at Mitsubachi and then to Chat. “Sorry to run, but I've got school in the morning.”

“It's quite alright, Ladybug,” Mitsubachi assured. “I will have to speak to my boyfriend about this... console.”

And just like that, Chat was riding high in the saddle again, now that Kagami had so bluntly reminded Ladybug that she was taken, yet for whatever reason, it didn't seem to have any effect at all on the other girl.

To drive the point home, which was just silly in light of the fact that neither of them knew that _he_ was said boyfriend, Chat couldn't help but try to even the score, if only a little.

“I'm glad that you're doing better than you were last time, Mitsu,” he enthused with a wink as he extended his baton. “Remember that I'm always sending you” - a finger gun - “ _swarm_ wishes.”

The jealousy, he realized as he began making his way home, was kind of a good thing for him. It refocused him.

Whatever he felt for Ladybug, he was in a relationship – two, actually. He wasn't going to jeopardize something that good.

And it was _better_ than good because it was soft and caring and supportive and teasing and _real_ in a way that he could never have had with Ladybug. It wasn't some grand sweeping romance like he'd envisioned when younger, but...

With Ladybug, he couldn't sneak a kiss after class (albeit very carefully), bake bread with her in her parents' kitchen, laze around watching anime, perform a duet, complain about their respective parent, lock blades, play video games while stuffing his face with carbs, or any of the other thousand little things that had taken love and built it into, well, still love, but something more that grew up on that foundation.

He bridged the gap between buildings and tumbled through his open bedroom window, dropping his transformation and heading off to his bed to retrieve his cell phone.

As he settled onto his comforter and scrolled through his saved pictures, he realized something that allowed him to forgive himself.

Adrien's thumb hovered over an image of Marinette throwing a peace sign as Kagami quirked a brow, a platter of Ahi nigiri, inari rolls, and several other items that he couldn't name set between them. They were in a restaurant that the Japanese girl had insisted that Marinette visit. Between the pair of girls, Adrien himself stretched out his arm, snapping the selfie.

Even if Ladybug _didn't_ have her civilian boyfriend, even if she wasn't uninterested – he smiled at the sight before him - he would make the same choice that he did two months ago.

Wandering off in search of cheese, Plagg merely scoffed at what Adrien assumed must of been the smitten expression that he saw on 'his kid's' face.

Adrien sent a supportive text to Marinette and then Kagami in turn, reminding them that they were both “very good friends.”

Then a cat meme that he hoped would have Marinette laughing despite herself.

* * *

“Ladybug's” encounter with Adrien had Marinette distracted all Wednesday, cute kitty picture that he had sent her late last evening and delightful half-hour spent with her unwitting girlfriend aside. At least for a little while last night, focused on Kagami's warm body against her arm and the subtle emotions that played over her face, she was able to distract herself.

It was a nice way to begin and end the day, and it had let her fall asleep relatively easily.

Today, it wasn't just the voice of anxiety that told her she had been so very _stupid_ to rush things with Adrien. She didn't think; she just blundered in with a cockamamie ill-considered plan, which seemed to be what she “did” with him. He'd needed a _talk_. He deserved the chance to go on a few easy patrols and learn to trust his powers and the team. It was only fair that he know that they would be there for him.

Thrusting an unprepared child into the middle of a battle with powers he couldn't understand was Master Fu's style.

That was not the Guardian she wanted to be because it wasn't fair or sane.

He had his reasons because of his past experiences, which tempered the spite, but having suffered for his approach, she had her reasons as well. Marinette _may_ have had selfish motives when offering Kagami a miraculous, but allowing her to train with the Bee miraculous and actually lay out ground rules in a conversation before she was dragged into a fight with an akuma had been the right choice.

When she mentioned that to Tikki, the little kwami had smiled and told her that _that_ was often the way of things. You learnt from the mistakes of the past, both others and yours, so that you could make all new mistakes, striving to better yourself all the while.

That hadn't exactly filled her with confidence, nor had Tikki's light scolding for failing to listen to her warnings regarding the hastily-concocted “plan,” which was more like a vague idea that sounded good in her head but really should have been actually developed.

Whether she had “ruined things” or not, Adrien needed to have a conversation with Ladybug... when she found the time.

And that wasn't going to be today.

Another akuma attack hit the Eiffel Tower at around 14:00, dragging Marinette out of her afternoon class, though Alya protested her departure and she could feel the reporter's glare on her back as she scuttled out of the room, mouthing a nonsensical excuse of the sort that her teachers had long since begun to ignore.

Apparently, the child of a pair of American tourists had lost his favourite bouncy-ball atop the lookout and been metamorphosed into Rick-o-chet (his parents called him Dickie), who was like the human equivalent of, fittingly, a “bouncy-ball.”

Hawkmoth was truly sick. How could anyone prey on _children_ again and again? Did he even think about the parents who loved them and could only watch, impotent, as their children were torn away from them and twisted into something unrecognizable? She was comforted by the fact that it was impossible for any sane woman to love a man like that, so he couldn't have children of his own. At least none that he hadn't lost parental rights to very shortly after their birth.

Then, halfway through the battle, Ladybug allowed herself to become distracted, just for a critical second, by thoughts of all the work that she couldn't complete this afternoon – the three less-than-half-finished papers and the reader-response that Madame Bustier had handed out earlier in the morning. Then there was the history test on Monday that she still hadn't studied for.

That was all it took.

Mitsubachi tumbled through the air, straining to right herself as the momentum from the physics-defying Akuma's body-slam sent her spinning off the edge of the lookout roof. As her trompo slipped from her grip, she grunted fiercely, and Ladybug only just held back the instinctual scream that tried to claw its way from her throat. The thin line of her yo-yo lanced out midway through her desperate scramble to try to catch her girlfriend. Her aim wobbled and the string arced into empty sky when the rotund, purple-hued akuma careened into her again, sending her sprawling.

This time, as Kagami disappeared from sight, Ladybug _did_ scream, rolling out of the way of another attack and scuttling to the edge on her hands and knees

Chat Noir burst into her vision, springing up from below, a fuming Mitsubachi cradled in his arms as she clawed to get _out_ and back into the fight.

“I'm so flattered that you've _pollen_ for me, Honey,” he said as he landed on the platform with a flourish, setting her down and giving her a once over. Almost immediately, the akuma's renewed assault forced them to dive for cover.

Rolling out of a dodge to catch the villain with a baseball swing of his baton that sent the boy bouncing between support beams, destabilized but utterly unharmed, Chat Noir grinned over at Mitsubachi: “I didn't realize until I had you in my arms, but you've got a great figure. Not at all chub-bee.”

_Urgh._

The akuma-infected summit lift ticket was torn apart by her vengeful girlfriend thanks to Ladybug's clever use of a spotted sousaphone (don't ask), revealing a sniffling little boy with red eyes whose face was covered with snot. Chat ushered the child to his parents while Mitsubachi blanched, looking like she was going to be slightly sick, and said that she had to go.

Ladybug “bugged out” to recharge. While Tikki munched on a cookie, Marinette was able to watch as, with the permission of “Dickie's” parents, the cat brought him to the bottom of the tower and took him on a low, slow, and easy “pole vault piggy-back ride” to a nearby gift shop. There, with Chat Noir making silly jokes and sillier faces all the while, the pair selected a bouncy-ball that came recommended by the superhero Chat Noir himself and a half dozen other “special” souvenirs that were not so easily lost.

From what she could tell when spying through the window, Chat actually insisted on paying for them, withdrawing a few crumpled 20 Euro notes that had been tucked away in his belt, even though the store owner offered to let him have the armful of items for free.

And as they parted, the little boy paused to wrap his chubby arms around Chat's neck and squeeze him in a hug that had Chat freezing in shock for a moment before reciprocating with a brilliant smile and gentle scritch of the boy's head with his claws.

That cat made it very hard to be angry with him sometimes, even if he deserved it.

He'd be overly-indulgent, but he would never let his kids doubt that he loved them. If things ever progressed that far, his girlfriend could do a lot worse than that.

Of course, he was nothing compared to Adrien, but seeing him wave goodbye to the little boy as the child was scooped up by his father and settled on the man's shoulders while his wife began to lug away a bag of souvenirs?

Well... that might just have been worth missing yet another class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It likely seems as if Marinette is spinning her wheels here. That's because she is. Her martyr complex and unwillingness to "burden" others with her problems leaves her caught in a spiral from which she cannot escape until ...


	8. When it's cruel to be kind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persistent akuma attacks and yet more work at school may have Marinette at her breaking point.
> 
> But Marinette has two people who love her more than anything. They may finally be able to do their part to give her the help that she has needed for quite some time.

On Thursday, a grueling pop quiz in math left Marinette one-hundred percent certain that she failed so badly that the teacher would give her pity marks for inventing entirely new ways of being wrong in mathematics.

She had even apologized when handing in her assignment, holding things up for Alya, who was right behind her, though she seemed quite content having a few extra moments to flirt with Nino.

Then, there was _another_ akuma attack that saw her missing out on the much-needed review session for her History test on Monday.

Worse yet, Adrien hadn't been in class all day due to a photo-shoot, and Alya would no doubt duck out to try to grab footage of the battle, so Marinette would probably have to rely on Nino for notes. Wonderful boy though he was, he took terrible notes.

In the fight, Mitsubachi, showing a degree of disregard that Marinette hadn't anticipated, threw herself into the fray and was again the worse for it when _Blitz'em_ , a hyper-sonic reindeer-styled akuma faster than Marinette's girlfriend by far, had caught the bee mid-lunge with his antlers, and tossed her through a plate glass window and the counter of the restaurant beyond.

Still, although she fretted for her girlfriend and could feel those unsteady heart palpitations racing up into her head to rob her of any good sense, Ladybug had months of experience seeing her partner or partners taking hits. The anxiety was hitting her again, licking at the border of her mind like a flame to paper, the edges blackening and curling up, but she could maintain her reserve for now.

Working in tandem with an oddly laser-focused and grim Chat, she had another akuma notch on their collective belts and a miraculous cure spreading out around them before Mitsubachi could even rejoin the pair.

Ladybug might have been all right for the moment, but there was no possibility that Marinette could avoid another anxiety attack this afternoon if she didn't _see_ that Kagami was fine (it really _was_ getting worse), so Ladybug directed the pair of heroes to follow her, only half-conscious of the limited time that she had left on her miraculous countdown.

When they were safe in yet another shadowy alley between two buildings and Chat gave them a thumbs-up to let them know that he couldn't hear or smell anyone nearby, even in the windows above them, Mitsubachi's transformation dropped.

Though slightly gaunt, her exposed cheeks showed no signs of the multitude of bleeding scratches and even deeper lacerations that had marred her face earlier. Marinette clutched a hand to her chest as her breathing began to slow, though not as much as she had hoped.

Kagami was avoiding Ladybug's gaze.

Chat was at her side immediately.

“Hey, Kaga-bee,” he grinned while fanning himself with a paw before poking her lightly. “Is it getting _swarm_ around here, or is it just you? With that hair, it's probably you. I've been meaning to ask you about your sweet hairdo. Did you style it with a honeycomb **?”**

Ladybug was relieved beyond words that Kagami was safe and well, but the sight of her turning to the cat with that indulgent expression, when she still couldn't seem to bring herself to look at Ladybug at all, still hurt.

Just one more day until the weekend. She could handle that.

* * *

Friday was an unpleasant mess.

After class, she had a student council meeting wherein they had to try to catch up with the work to which they had failed to attend in the last session. That was on top of the current load. Lunch was devoted to two meetings with teachers regarding the dip in her grades and one in which she requested an extension on that third paper. Taking time after Tuesday's patrol to express her regrets to Chat and Mitsubachi probably hadn't been wise.

Scrambling between consultations, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes, she plucked her phone from her pocket.

Then, she backed out of her date with Adrien and Kagami in a hasty text-message, citing her work in the bakery, which was a... quarter truth, before turning off her cell.

Even though it made her want to cry because they deserved better than that and she was a horrible friend, girlfriend, and person for it.

She ignored Adrien's soft and worried glances and Alya's frowns all day. The model had tried to pass her notes throughout class, but it became obvious that she wouldn't respond, and neither of them could talk openly when, after class, she apologized for letting him down and told him, quite sincerely, to enjoy his date with Kagami, even while she was struggling not to just break down into his arms and cry at ... everything.

And she _had_ let them both down. After promising to go on that “arcade date,” she was cancelling at the last minute. Wasn't that just like her?

A demanding work schedule over the weekend and Tikki's encouragement to take time for herself were just enough to convince her to be selfish, but not so selfish as to completely ruin their date by telling them about how swamped she was. They could talk about it... later. She just- she just...

There was just too much right now. 

She would make it up to them later, she assured herself, even as she ignored her kwami's prodding to just let the two know that she was drowning with work and plagued by the lingering sense that the condition that she thought that she understood was, in fact, growing worse.

“Marinette,” Tikki had fretted, “Didn't we just go over this? I really think that it would help if you listened to me.

“No, Tikki. This is completely different because this time I'm _not_ being selfish,” Marinette retorted, ignoring the little creature as she slapped her little hands to her face in lament.

After minding the bakery and shoveling dinner into her mouth, she settled down with her English essay, due Monday alongside the history test, though her thoughts kept drifting to her boyfriend and girlfriend and the cell phone that she had turned off because _she couldn't deal with that right now_.

Making sense out of the meandering, incoherent mess that was the first draft of her paper was all-but impossible. It served her right for trying to type up an essay late last evening or, rather, early this morning, under the influence of a double espresso shot and about four heaping spoonfuls of sugar.

Just as she began to edit the introduction in the hopes that her teacher would only really read that and part of the first paragraph: an akuma alert.

 _The Ruler_ , who screamed incessantly about “the metric system being the tool of the Devil,” sported a crown weaved out of... rulers. It seemed that he had complete control over all manner of measuring devices, sending small armies of tape measures, meter sticks, and weighted plumb lines that _really_ sucked against the trio of heroes. Ladybug suddenly empathized with all of those villains whom she had captured using her yo-yo line. _The Ruler_ 's penchant for plumb-line bondage had Ladybug counting him among the most challenging “stupid akuma” that she had ever faced. Still, with the ridiculousness of the villain, Hawkmoth was clearly going for quantity over quality this week because he was a little jerk like that when she had so much work to do.

Mitsubachi and Chat seemed to take a feral delight in the battle though, snapping what seemed like several trees worth of meter sticks over their knees, reveling in the chance to break something.

Eventually, she and her partners splintered the _yard_ stick that _The Ruler_ had been using as a scepter and quasi-conductor's-baton for his army.

Then the flirting.

“Allow me to say that you're looking particularly bee-witching tonight,” Chat began with a strange lack of enthusiasm that might have had Ladybug curious regarding her partner's feelings in the moment, but for the fact that he took Mitsu's hand _again_ , and kissed it _again_ , and it was just too much.

“I could really wax poetic about your bee-u-ty,” he added with an unsteady grin.

No. _That_ was too much because _everything_ was too much. She took back every kind thought she'd ever had about him. The sheer temerity of that unfaithful cad; he might make for a great father, but he'd be a _terrible_ husband to that unlucky girlfriend of his.

Kind of like how “Ladybug” would make for a terrible wife who wouldn't be any better at holding to her promises.

“Chat,” she gritted out even though she knew that she didn't have _time_ for this, “would you meet me on top of the Eiffel tower in five minutes? We need to talk about something.”

“Should I attend as well?” her girlfriend asked with an inquisitive quirk of her brow that twisted her cowl cutely, even though she was still letting him cling onto her hand with all the tenacity and destructiveness of a cat clawing his way up curtains.

“It's a personal issue, Mitsu.”

Even if it hadn't concerned Kagami, Marinette didn't think that she could stand the other girl's presence at the moment. Despite the demands on her time, she was offering to assist “Ladybug,” and after failing her girlfriend so spectacularly, Marinette couldn't take that.

The assurance seemed sufficient for Mitsubachi, and, with a nod to her and then to Chat, she was off, tugging her hand free from the boy's grip.

After a quick recharge and a trip to the top of the tower, all of her frustrations and exhaustion and her anxiety and her failure to be what Kagami and Adrien needed in their lives came out in a _partially_ -misdirected vomit towards Chat Noir.

She hadn't expected him to crack in a similar way.

They exploded at each other, hurling accusations that the other was being unfaithful and, yes, she was in a way because Chat's vigorous defense of Mitsubachi and the reminder that he had a girlfriend - a fact that she spat in his face with more energy and spite than she understood – actually... hurt.

Yet throughout the argument, it was as if he felt that he'd been wronged – as if he had a right to all that ridiculous flirting with Kagami and the soft looks that should have been hers.

Eventually, Chat had simply hissed that “he didn't have to deal with this” and left her fuming on the top of the Eiffel tower until the adrenaline wore off. Then, she sunk to her butt on the platform and smacked the back of her head into the support beam behind her for the next five minutes.

He didn't deserve that. Kagami and Adrien didn't deserve being stood up and ignored either.

It was just after 21:00 when she returned home, slipping in through the trap door atop the bakery's roof to plop into her bed. Dispelling her transformation, she allowed a fretting Tikki to settle atop the back of her hand, which was currently resting over her reddened eyes, squeezing tight. Marinette shuddered as the litany of responsibilities and fears began to roll through her mind. Tiny motions of Tikki's arms, spreading across her hand back and forth as if she was making a reverse snow angel, tickled her.

“Marinette,” the kwami sighed with an air of finality. “Go talk to your parents.”

“Tikki, I-”

“Marinette!” Tikki cut her off so directly and viciously that the girl actually pulled her hand away, disrupting the kwami and leaving her floating before the girl's eyes.

“ _Listen_ to me this time. Go talk to your parents,” she repeated slowly, arms folded across her chest as she glowered at Marinette in a way that actually quieted her racing mind because someone else was taking responsibility. “Or I will.”

“You can't do that,” Marinette objected halfheartedly as she swabbed at a slightly sniffly nose

“Just watch me,” the kwami challenged with a jutting of her rounded chin. “Now, you can either talk to them, or I can explain a heck of a lot more.”

So, sullen in defeat and without the strength to argue, Marinette rolled from her bed, Tikki flitting over to clamber into her pocket, and traipsed down the ladder that led from her bed to the main floor of her room, then through the hatch to her room.

Her parents had settled into the living area, cuddled up together on the sofa, having already prepared themselves for bed. Her mother was wrapped comfortably in a thin but fluffy housecoat and her father's robust frame nearly burst his pin-stripe pajamas. As Marinette entered the room, her mother looked up and the contented expression on her face deformed with concern. Leaping to her feet just as her husband shifted towards Marinette as well, Sabine pressed up towards to her daughter.

Bloated and red-rimmed eyes and disheveled pigtails must have made her look downright frightful.

“Baby, what's wrong?” Sabine asked softly, gently taking Marinette by the hand to lead her to the couch.

“I-I just need to speak to you two,” Marinette responded as Sabine settled her next to her Papa, who looked just about ready to cry as well, just from the sight of her, as he wrapped his massive arm around both his wife and his daughter.

“Anything,” he said softly, pressing her to his chest. The smell of his cologne and his soothing voice made her feel like she _was_ a baby again, tugging up all those old memories of comfort and safety that were more like instincts than true recollections.

“I - I'm feeling really worried these days.” That was a woeful way of putting it.

“Is it about the akumas?”

Oh, God, was it ever about the akumas, but that was Ladybug's problem. Marinette had, perhaps, a more serious one.

“No. It's not the akumas. I always stay safe,” she replied to alleviate _their_ concern, mumbling into her papa's chest.

“School, then?” her mother said, reaching out to stroke a hand over Marinette's shoulder and upper back. “I know that you've been having some trouble lately.”

“School has been hard, but the problem isn't any one things. It's more that I'm just... worried,” she finished lamely because how do you talk about this?

“How about you let your papa tuck you in and we'll bring you some Chamomile tea with just a touch of honey,” Sabine offered with a gesture towards the kitchen. “That always helps me to sleep, and you'll cheer up after a good rest.”

If only it was so easy. It _would_ be so easy to just leave it at that.

“That ... sounds nice, and I- _ah_!” Marinette ended in a yelp when, secreted away inside of the girl's pocket, Tikki _bit_ her through the fabric.

The little rat.

“Are you alright?” her father barked, rearranging her in his grip to get a better look at her.

“Oh, fine,” she assured with a little bit of gravel in her voice, patting the crux of her father's shoulder before settling against him again. “Just a pinched nerve. Sorry.”

“Okay,” he said dubiously before clearing the uncertain expression from his face with a broad but unstable smile. “So, would you like me to put you to bed? Just like old times? Indulge your papa.”

“I-uh – I think that I really need to work through this, actually,” she said as Tikki tried to paw away at the little red lump that was no doubt forming in her flesh, soothing her.

“Of course, honey,” her mother reassured.

“I'm not worried about any one thing. It's ... everything.”

“You can't put your finger on it?” her Papa asked, using his other hand to lift her legs and angle her butt so that she was sitting on his leg and Sabine could rest against his shoulder.

“I feel – like everything is getting away from me, that there's something wrong with how I... think about things. I'm afraid of things that I shouldn't be, and I don't even _know_ anymore. I just know that something is wrong... with me,” she finished in a low tone.

Why couldn't she bring herself to say it?

“Marinette, there's _nothing_ wrong with you. You're perfect, just the way you are,” her mother began hesitantly, stroking her daughter's hair while gazing on her with a kind of indulgent and intense gentleness.

That was meant as a kindness, but there was only a great swell of hot and ugly shame – like she should be perfect.

“Sometimes you can see things that aren't quite there,” Sabine continued gently. “Are you sure that this isn't just you letting your mind get away from you again?”

And it _was_ , because it was all just in her head, and that was the problem. It was suddenly so stupid that she be weak like this and put it on them without even being able to _use_ the word that Kagami threw out without reservation when they first talked about this.

She had an “anxiety disorder.” But that was self-diagnosis, however well-meaning. If she couldn't _deal_ with the problem herself, what made her think that she could understand it or define it on her own?

Still, it would be so easy, though, to just let them go on thinking that their daughter was quirky and clumsy because, _oh, that's just Marinette_ and that she worried about things that were silly.

“Mamma, Papa, I know that you love me,” she began and saying that gave her the strength to keep going, her voice stabilizing to something that was firm but kind - confident like Ladybug because that's who she was some of the time, while at others she was weak like Ladybug was with Adrien and she had to _tell_ herself that was okay even if she didn't really feel it.

“But this isn't me overreacting. This is not me imagining things.” It _wasn't_ because even if the fears weren't real, the fear was. “I need you to listen – really listen _...”_

They did.

“And I need your help because I can't handle this alone, so I'm asking you to _please_ help me.”

And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the difficulties in writing Sabine and Tom is that there I feel that a fine line must be walked between their clear love and support for their daughter and also their ability to dismiss or deride her and her concerns. They appear to trust her with a tremendous amount of independence, but that can leave her floundering, especially when they put too much on her shoulders. Given their hectic lives as small business owners, as much as they love her, they may not really be able to see how much she struggles. After all, in canon, they seem only to rarely comment on her missing classes or some of her aberrant behaviours. I get the sense that they may not be “educated” or attentive enough to see the signs of something being seriously wrong.
> 
> Much of what they said here *sounds* like the right thing to them because it seems kind, but, though I do not pretend to be an expert on the subject, it can also be the last thing that a person with depression or anxiety needs to hear: “cheer up,” “a good night's sleep will help,” “it's all in your head, so it will be alright.” 
> 
> Often, those kinds of comments come from good places, but do tremendous harm. It can also be quite easy to start pressing or making assumptions, rather than letting that person speak. 
> 
> So, 'good but flawed parent' Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain.


	9. You and me and her against the world.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sleeper awakens to a very different world than the one she left behind last evening. Just knowing that problems are being handled, and not by you, can make a world of difference. 
> 
> How much studying can you get done in a day? A surprisingly large amount. 
> 
> Many conversations are begun. Lengthy ones.

The low, bass rumble of traffic swelled up, reverberating around Marinette's room, as the piercing, intermittent screech of a truck's backup signal penetrated the girl's skull like an ice-pick, which, as it would end the pain, probably would have been preferable at this point. Thin sunlight pulsed beyond her closed eyelids until she rolled her face into the smooth fabric of her pillow, slightly damp with drool, to block it out, and drug her blanket tighter around her body.

A cacophonous slam and clatter of heavy machinery rattled the room and her body as she groaned pitifully and tired to slip the pillow out from under her heavy head to cover her ears.

Her first conscious _polite_ thought was that construction work should be illegal on weekends, but the piercing, oscillating warning klaxon persisted despite her mental complaints. Lips gummed together by gunky, half-congealed drool, she ran her tongue over her fuzzy-feeling teeth and grimaced at the foul taste that she knew would come out as terrible breath the moment that she dared open her mouth.

One blurry eye cracked open for only a moment to dare a glance at her clock.

Its red digital display taunted her: 9:47 AM.

“Damn it!” she hissed, tossing her comforter and pillow to the side.

From her perch on the bed, right beside the space where Marinette's pillow had lain before it was thrown into the air to tumble to the first floor and land... somewhere, Tikki arose, her expression clearly concerned.

“Are you alright, Marinette?”

“I should have been in the bakery three hours ago, Tikki!” Marinette moaned as she tried to scramble down the ladder at the foot of her bed while also pulling off her sleepwear.

She could still make up the bakery shift with her parents. It just meant that she would have to take an afternoon shift and then still make time for her English paper, which meant an all-nighter because Sunday had to be devoted wholly to history studies.

“Marinette?”

She pawed her way through her underwear drawer.

Why was it so hard to find matching socks? Were those even a necessity?

Then, her closet simply refused to disgorged an appropriate outfit that matched, while the clatter and crash of construction outside of her window rocked the cobwebs in her brain, but did nothing to dislodge them.

“Marinette.”

Black pants. White shirt. Fine.

Scooting over to her chaise, she tossed the simple but functional outfit down and-

“Marinette!” her kwami barked, causing the girl to pause halfway through changing.

“What?” she responded, looking up. Tikki floated there, her nubs crossed, shaking her head.

“Your parents gave you the day off, remember?”

“Oh.... right.” She mulled over her barely-passable clothing for a moment, then yawned and stretched, slowing to actually put her shirt on right-side-out. As she wiggled into her top, the vertebrae in her upper back popped and shifted. “Thanks for reminding me, Tikki.”

“You're welcome. Now go get some coffee, settle down, and just tackle one thing at a time, okay?”

“Yeah,” she slurred in response. “One foot in front of the other.”

Deciding that it would be wise to first brush her teeth, she slipped into the bathroom to scrub the scuzzy sensation out of her mouth and gargle. A few quick tugs of her hair left her with loose and messy pigtails that she wouldn't _dare_ be seen with at school. Out of courtesy to her parents, she reapplied deodorant in a haze, that initial adrenaline shot having already worn off, before stumbling out of the bathroom and making her way downstairs.

Humming fluorescent lights greeted her in the kitchen, inspiring her to shade her eyes against the harsh glare. A spread of appliances from a battered toaster to the _heavenly_ electric kettle lay along the counter-top on the far wall, just beyond the kitchen table at which Adrien sat before a pile of books, staring at her as she staggered in and made her way towards the kettle.

While instant coffee was nowhere near as satisfying as a well-brewed cup of the real stuff, it was _instant_. That had its benefits. The aromatic taste of bitter caffeine hidden behind a few tablespoons of sugar and creamer and-

She jerked into the air, smacking her butt into the counter-top as she wheeled toward the table!

“Adrien!” she squawked.

“Hey, Marinette?” He rose from his seat, a thermos she saw only now in his hand. “Are you alright there?

Well, her butt ached...

“Bwhat- here?” Her lips motor-boated together for a moment as she smacked her cheeks with both hands a few times to try to wake herself fully.

“Sorry to startle you so, uh, early in the morning.” Adrien stepped forward, extending the thermos and rattling it back and forth. “Paybay for earlier this week. It's a good thermos, so the coffee should still be warm.”

“Uh, Saturday morning Mandarin lessons?” she asked, taking the thermos from him in a daze.

“I got out of that. Kagami needed help preparing for an upcoming tournament,” he said with a shrug, and ushered her towards a seat at the table. It was remarkably easy to simply follow his lead. She plopped down into the chair he pulled out for her. “So it was in the company's best interests for me to accommodate her with a sparring match.”

“Uh, what?”

He pointed in the direction of the doorway.

“I got dropped off at the D'Argencour fencing academy and then hoofed it here after my bodyguard left. Kagami's covering for us."

"Why?" she muttered

"We had a date, right?" Adrien added with a little shrug. "I'll also answer your next questions. Who? Adrien Agreste. How? Sneakily. When? Right now."

There was something intensely sweet about his cheekiness and insistence, but it was tempered by frustration at his disregard for her express request and her needs at the moment – like he was driven by a sense of entitlement. It actually hurt. She thought that he was better than that.

"Adrien, I really- I can't make it today," she offered softly. Needing something to do with her hands, she raised her drink to her lips. Perfectly warm, sugary coffee filled her mouth.

"I know, and that's why I brought the date," he waved a hand towards the collection of textbooks on the table, "and the review material to you."

"A study date?" she asked. "Uh- Adrien, I've got a lot to do and I don't know if I really have ... time for any fun."

"Then we put our heads down and get to work," he assured while reaching out to put a hand to her knee, leaving it hovering in the air for a few seconds until she nodded her approval. "Don't worry, Marinette. I can be serious."

Oh. Right. He _was_ better than that.

"I-uh-"

"I just want to help you, Mari," he pleaded with wide eyes and a squeeze of her knee and he was an evil little _fallen_ angel because he _knew_ what calling her 'Mari' did to her, even now.

"It _would_ be nice to go over that review material," she conceded because she'd have done just about anything to get him to to stop looking at her like that.

“Great!” he cheered, turning back to the table to rifle through the pile of material and sort it out. “I picked up a note pack from our teacher for the history review session, and I thought that we could go through the practice test together.”

“That would be great, Adrien, but I also have-”

“An English paper due Monday,” he finished for her, leaving her speechless while he tugged out a clear plastic duotang. “Not a problem. I already finished mine two weeks ago." With that, he waved the folder in his hand. “And I'd be happy to be your second reader.”

“How on Earth did you find out about all that?”

“I-” he cleared his throat before grinning impishly, “I'm your boyfriend. I have my sources.”

“Adrien,” she grumbled.

“Look, I'll talk about it when Kagami arrives for our date, alright?”

It was too early, and Marinette herself too desperately in need of further coffee, for her to object.

After taking a few minutes to settle Marinette down to explain the review sheet in a methodical fashion as she sipped her coffee, Adrien rose and scrounged up some fruit and some day-old croissants that her father had been kind enough to leave out for her to eat when she awoke. They came with a small handwritten note, folded over on itself, that Adrien handed to her before busying himself by reorganizing the flash cards that he had apparently typed up.

Even when he was “serious,” just like he promised, he was still painfully sweet.

_Thank you for talking to us last night. We left a message with our GP this morning. Any time you feel like that again, we're ready to listen._

_P.S. Make sure Adrien eats at least two croissants._

That alone had her slump in relief even as she curled a hand around her mouth and her eyes stung. It wasn't grandiose or emotional or profound, but its simplicity, and the fact that she could practically hear her mother's voice saying the words, just confirming that someone _else_ was doing something adult about the problem – that was enough.

A sniffle had Adrien beside her chair in an instant.

“What is it?” he asked, looking down at her. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she breathed and then chuckled through the sting. His face was pinched up in worry and still he was beautiful. She reached up to run a hand over his cheek. Baby smooth. “I'm good. Just a little emotional.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed gently.

“Yeah,” and as she folded up the note and slipped it into her pocket, for the first time this week, she _really_ meant it.

Not that everything was fine. Her emotional nerves were still hypersensitive, her mind like raw skin. But it wasn't the weight of last evening, or the tension of an actual attack. She might be slightly unpredictable today, but not ... lost. Her boyfriend was here, her girlfriend would arrive in a few hours, and her parents were working to help her.

A pile of work and reconciliation with Chat remained, but they had been through too much to let one stressful argument destroy everything that they had built.

The next two hours, punctuated by a few breaks to retrieve further snacks and another mug of coffee, were devoted to an extensive review of several sections of her history book that were highlighted in the test review sheet. With patient encouragements and gentle suggestions that redirected her from... dubious answers, Adrien walked her through the salient portions of the text, never actually telling her “no.”

Halfway through the second hour, he retrieved her laptop from her room and began to read through her English essay while she worked through the short-answer section of the practice test.

When they broke for lunch, he turned the laptop around to her and she found a google doc with suggested changed in “compare” mode. Lines of red and yellow highlighting dotted the entire piece. It was enough to cause her stomach to fall.

“That awful, huh?” she muttered, turning her eyes away from the ugly warning colours that were splashed across her essay.

“It's really not as bad as it looks,” Adrien assured as he pointed to the first section with substantial revisions. “The ideas were great. It's just that the wording got away from you here and there.”

He hummed and then continued while rifling through a smaller pile of papers: “I should have a worksheet on modifiers here somewhere. If you get those down, I think that your English papers will be a little bit more clear.”

“That's a polite way of saying that it didn't make any sense,” Marinette grumbled in response, gripping the edge of the table in both hands and clenching her fingers into it.

“Bull,” Adrien huffed, and that was the closest that she'd ever heard to a swear from him, leaving her gaping like a fish at him. “It was solid work. That said, though I do think that your conclusion is spot on in comparing Iago to Lila, it may be a little too personal.”

“Did I actually write that?” Marinette asked with a smile.

Good job sleep-deprived Marinette. Very insightful.

“I loved the Coleridge quotation about them being 'Motiveless Malignities,' but you'd at least need to cite that," Adrien granted. A flick of his mouse selected the associated quotation.

“Wow. I must have been really out of it.” Though comparing Lila to a disease or spreading cancer was... not entirely wrong.

“Don't worry,” he reassured her. “Everyone forgets a citation now and again.”

From the earnest look on his face, offset by a little half-smirk, there was no way for her to tell without asking directly whether that was a joke or a genuine misunderstanding.

After getting a few cool drinks and some leftover cold cuts and baguette, which Marinette sliced up into convenient mouth-sized bites, she returned to the computer and the pair tucked into an extended lunch while working.

They flashed through the suggested changes ( _corrections_ , but he didn't call them that) and the most gratifying part of doing so, aside from the fact that Adrien pulled his chair up next to her, was that he had been entirely honest: it actually did make sense with a few changes to wording.  
  
The full night's sleep might have helped clarify things too.

A few minutes into the re-read of her essay, Marinette tilted her head down to press it against Adrien's shoulder and he drew the palm of his hand over her lower back in pacifying strokes. Even now, there was just something about being near him, feeling his hand ghosting over her skin through her thin shirt, and it just wasn't fair because he never looked away from the computer screen, now using his left-hand to point out alterations and type out the revisions that she wanted to make to what he had written.

A kind of giddiness welled up inside of her at the gentle stroking of her back as if she was awash in the simple presence of him – the whole experience of him just sitting there: his voice a comforting hum, shirt and shoulder rough against her cheek.

It was just after 12:45 when they saved the final draft of her essay and Marinette suggested that they go for a walk around the block to stretch their legs and get some fresh air so that they could be at their best for the rest of the day.

They made their way downstairs and took a turn towards the back entrance to avoid the crowds that could gather in the storefront. Before stepping outside, Adrien prepared himself. Marinette watched with slightly too-much interest as he mussed up his perfect hair into a dishevelled mess that made him look wild and bedraggled, like he'd just woken up.

From experience, she knew that- uh... that was a really good look on him.

She really must have been feeling better if she could think like _that_.

He left his white over-shirt hanging on the wall, but not before pulling out a pair of mirrored sunglasses and slipping them over his brilliant green eyes. The orange baseball cap that he plucked out of the backpack he had left at the door was clearly a gift or a loan from Nino because it was not something that Gabriel Agreste would ever even allow in his house.

Folded, faded, and set backwards on his head, clashing against his blonde hair, it, along with those incongruous sunglasses...

It made him look like a complete _dork_.

“Thanks for the support,” he huffed, taking in her mirthful expression.

“It's- it's a good disguise,” she said, trying to be kind. “I'll give you that.”

“If it made you laugh, it can't be all that bad,” he added with a shrug.

Adrien's “disguise” held out for a short tour of the neighborhood, and on their return, as she waited for him to stuff his sunglasses and cap back into his backpack, she leaned against the hallway wall and asked, “So, what's next on the schedule, teacher?”

“I was thinking about the reader-response,” he responded, looking to the ground as he tugged off one of his shoes.

“Maybe we work on something more pressing.”

“Sure. If you want,” he said with a nod. “I know it's not due for a while, but it might be nice to just cross something off your list. We should be able to read through the article and type up a paragraph opinion response in about half-an-hour.”

“I guess that make sense,” she agreed, extending an arm for him to lean on while he removed his other shoe.

Returning to the table, they tucked into the article for the reader response. It took even less time to complete her paragraph than he had implied. Several sections were already dotted with colour-coded highlighting: the work had been pre-read for her, with several phrases and key ideas that linked together into a cohesive whole marked out, suggesting a reasonable response.

Scratching that task off of her itinerary _did_ give her a mental boost, just as Adrien had suggested.

It was just as they were about to turn to the French literature paper that Marinette had outlined that her father called up from the bakery.  
  
“Marinette, your friend-” There was a pause. “Kagami is here. Are you okay with me sending her up?”

“Thank you, Papa!” Marinette yelled downstairs. “Please!”

There was the soft tread of footfalls on the stairway, and as the noise grew slightly louder with each step, so too did a purely pleasant anxious anticipation. It had been far too long since the three of them had been able to get together, even if only for a few minutes before Adrien and Kagami departed on their date. However transient, this encounter was to be enjoyed; she wouldn't ruin even a moment of it.

_They deserve to get to enjoy themselves, especially after everything that Adrien's done for me today._

Entering through the door, which she pushed open with her shoulder, was Kagami. In one hand she held a plate of chocolate chip cookie shards. As it was a Saturday, her outfit was a simple and informal contrast to her school uniform: a fuchsia blouse that hugged her thin figure and made her appear taller while seeming to add a rosy hue to her olive skin, and relatively tight black jeans.

“Hey, Kagami,” Marinette said while rising to meet the other girl.

“Good afternoon.” Kagami inclined her head towards them in greeting while raising the plate of cookies. “Your father insisted that I share these broken cookies with you, though you should know that not all of them survived the trip upstairs.”

Likely because Pollen had descended upon them as soon as Kagami had left the storefront.

“With Dupain-Cheng cookies, I can't blame you,” Adrien offered from his seat, eyeing the plate.

Suddenly, it dawned on Marinette that all four people whom she loved were here, under the same roof, and as Kagami gave her a light hug before setting the plate next to Adrien, who was pushing books aside to make room, she realized just how... domestic it was.

What _was_ this feeling, she wondered as Adrien pressed a sneaky, unexpected kiss to Kagami's cheek while the girl bent over to deposit the plate?

“I'll get some milk,” she offered and walked to the cabinet above the sink to retrieve a few glasses as Kagami pulled out a chair on the other side of the one that Marinette had vacated.

With gentle pats to both of them as she returned, she handed a stack of three glasses to Adrien, who pulled them apart while Marinette retrieved a carton of milk and Kagami stole another crumbled quarter of a cookie and nibbled on it.

By the time that she got back and filled the cups, Adrien had already consumed the equivalent of three cookies as Kagami looked on at him with a raised brow. Adrien always ate sweets with the relish of a small child, though a voracious one. You never really got used to it and his still-mussed hair made it more startling and, in its own way, adorable.

What horrors would be unleashed on the world if he ever met Tikki and they came down to the last cookie?

It was good that she lived in a bakery and would never have to find out.

Adrien and Kagami both thanked her, him with a nod and her with a polite word, when she filled their glasses. After scarfing down another cookie, Adrien pounded back the whole cup of milk. A thin trickle of the cool white liquid spilled out the side of his mouth as his throat undulated with each thirsty gulp, then he pulled the glass away to swab the back of his hand over his jaw and lip with a throaty sigh of relief that ... did things to her.

She stuffed a blissfully chewy half-cookie into her mouth.

Yes. _Adrien_ did things to her. The very same things that were at that moment being expressed, though in much subtler fashion, no doubt, by the play of emotions across Kagami's face as she clutched at her own glass of milk, held halfway to her mouth.

“So,” Marinette began to shake herself out of that line of thinking while at the same time knocking some sense into Kagami by tapping her foot, which had her down her own glass of milk quickly too. “Now that you're here, when do you have to get going for your date?”

The skin between Adrien's eyes creased as he wrinkled his nose.

“What?” Kagami set her glass.

“The arcade?” Marinette asked, trying to sound casual as she plucked up a cookie and took a _reasonable_ sip of her milk. “Or are you just going to the movies?”

“Why would we go without you when you are struggling with school?” Kagami appeared utterly bewildered.

“I don't want you two to waste your free afternoon,” Marinette assured, running her thumb around the edge of her half-full glass.

“If we're spending time together, it's not a waste of time.”

Now that simply wasn't fair. After everything that Adrien had already done for her this morning: lying to his father, or bodyguard, sneaking out to her house, preparing all of this material for who knows how long last night. After how she had treated them, she wasn't worth that kind of effort.

“I- I can't let you do that for me – just give up your free time like that,” Marinette pressed.

Adrien scrounged up some cookie crumbs that had tumbled onto his textbook. "Whether we're in an arcade showing Kagami the ropes or in your room studying doesn't matter," he added with a shake of his head.

“Indeed,” Kagami agreed while affirming her boyfriend by reaching out and drawing his hand away from the textbooks to clasp it in-front of Marinette. “It's our time to invest however we wish, and we just discussed this a few days ago. Why not spend more time together now?”

“Guys, it- it's just too much.” However much she might have wished for them to stay, could she really justify it?

“I really should have been able to handle the work here on my own,” Marinette continued, “but I was stupid and I took on a commission that I should have known that I couldn't handle.”

“All of us make mistakes,” Adrien offered.

“But that does not mean that we should compound them by making more.” As usual, Kagami was the rather frank counterpoint to their boyfriend's indulgent sweetness.

Marinette never really realized how much she needed both in her life: a soft place to fall, someone who set her on a pedestal not as an untouchable Goddess but because he always wanted to lift her up, and someone who wasn't afraid to shake her out of her complacency, forceful enough to push her back on track. She also hadn't expected to find that in two different people...

“I- are you really sure that it's okay?” Their hands were still clasped in front of her, Adrien's delicately feminine and well-manicured fingers trailing over Kagami's rougher skin, and she reached out to place her palm over both. It was actually a little bit weird and awkward, a mess of fingers as they tried to adjust, but also comforting.

“Don't make me turn Adrien loose on you,” Kagami deadpanned. “I will make him use _the loo_ k.”

Ah, yes. That hangdog kicked-puppy _begging_ expression that he had used earlier. It was simply unfair that he had that kind of weapon in his arsenal.

“Fine,” Marinette groused, though her voice cracked ever-so-slightly when they both started stroking her hand and wrist in tandem.

“Excellent.”

“Thanks, Marinette,” Adrien added with a wide grin. The sheer exuberant life of it was nearly blinding and slightly painful. No boy should look that excited just to do _homework_.

Given that Kagami didn't go to her school, Marinette was concerned that the girl might not have very much to do during the rest of their afternoon “study date,” but she proved an invaluable source of ideas for the French literature paper that Marinette was working on while Adrien switched over to the sociology essay, both her draft and his.

By the time that 16:00 rolled around, Marinette was able to survey the table strewn with empty mugs and cookie crumbs and smile.

It had taken several hours of focused work, with more than a little assistance from Adrien and Kagami, but she had actually managed to knock off three essays and a history review. Granted, it was a cram session, but she still had time tomorrow and, provided there were no more akuma over the next thirty-six hours, she might actually be able to get a handle on the next week.

Things weren't perfect by any means, but nothing was. It was like Kagami said. And things didn't have to be perfect to be enjoyed.

“I think I'm just about ready for another real break,” Marinette offered. With everything that they had already done, she could at least have an hour with the pair before they had to depart. Didn't they deserve that?

“Sounds great, Marinette,” Adrien said with a nod.

He and Kagami collected the various plates, mugs, and glasses and lugged them over to the kitchen sink, a scorching look from both of them sending Marinette right back to her seat when she rose while offering to help them.

“I'll wash,” Adrien said, nearly vibrating with excitement at the prospect while scooping up the dish detergent, and that was just too cute. It was like a child leaping up to help an indulgent mother.

“No,” Kagami held up a hand before plucking the bottle from him and turning to the half sinkful of dishes. The boy looked ready to protest with a whine, his face fallen, until Kagami continued, “You cannot be permitted to damage those model hands. Your father would have me killed and force you to have plastic surgery.”

Adrien raised a hand, his mouth opening with an easy retort, before he blinked and turned to grab the dish towel.

“I'll dry,” he hummed with slightly less enthusiasm.

While they were busying themselves with the dishes, Marinette settled in to watch the easy exchange between Kagami and Adrien. Things proceeded smoothly up to the point that Adrien gave Kagami a playful hip-check as she handed over one of the last dishes for him to dry.

After glancing for a moment in Marinette's direction, she turned to stare at him with a bitter frown that had him take a step backwards and fumble with the plate for a moment, nearly wilting under the judgmental scorn.

Marinette coughed to hide a grin.

Then Kagami, her withering stare never breaking, lobbed a handful of soap suds into Adrien's stupidly cute face.

Uproarious laughter burst from his mouth, which also let in a few foamy bubbles that had him sputtering as he scraped what he could off his face and flicked it into the sink while Kagami broke, pointed at the suds that were dripping off his chin, and joined him with her own more subdued chortles.

It... it was so good to see them, just like that day in the ball-pit, behaving like children.

Did they get to do that anywhere else? With anyone else?

Once they got the laughing fit out of their system, they rejoined her at the table, pushing their chairs in, and Adrien collected up his books.

“I'm just going to put these in my backpack, okay?”

“Need a hand?” Marinette asked.

“Nah. It's just two loads,” he assured while walking out of the kitchen door. “Be back in a minute.”

“We'll be in the loft,” Kagami called out to him as he departed before retrieving Marinette' laptop from the table, settling it under her arm, and reaching out to offer the other girl a hand.

A brief flash of her doing the same thing on their double date to the ice-rink crossed Marinette's mind. That was... a weird memory in light of what had evolved – all the other times that they had held hands since then.

Marinette allowed the other girl to steady her as she rose, and lead her through the hallway and stairwell up towards her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly inorganic place to cut the chapter, but the next one will appear tomorrow, just to keep both at a reasonable length.
> 
> Once again, the way in which this narrative has evolved, and the tendency towards verbosity that I've displayed here, particularly in contrast with my much "leaner and meaner" story "The Madness in which She Now Raves" has taught me a great deal about the approach that I should adopt in plotting out, pacing, and developing future stories in this series, which I believe will work better for the lessons learned.


	10. A comfortable hot garbage fire of a mess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having found some measure of comfort in being open with her parents, Marinette decides to do the same with Adrien and Kagami, and they are inspired by her example. Three kids need to make up for all the time that they've spent *not* communicating.
> 
> Each one believes that there's a good deal of subtext that the others can't understand because, without even knowing it, they're talking about eachother.

Marinette pushed open the hatch that led to her room, ushering Kagami inside. Eyes sore and body stiff, she strained her arms above her head and rolled her shoulders to try to work out the clenching tightness.

It was amazing how tired you could get just sitting in a chair for several hours.

In a strange kind of exhaustion, she collapsed into her chaise, propping her cat pillow up behind her head, to watch while Kagami took a quick tour of the room. The other girl paused to review Marinette's sewing space.

Having expected to spend most of the day alone, head buried in her books, Marinette had left her room in disarray. Several pieces of clothing were strewn about the floor from her mad scramble this morning, and her sewing area was always a little less than pristine. Normally, that would have had her scampering to clean the place in a flurry, stuffing the collection of junk into her closet.

But today, she felt ... okay. Like it didn't matter because...because it was just Adrien and Kagami.

“ _Just Adrien?” Have I had a psychotic break?_

With a shrug, Kagami moved on, and Marinette really should not have expected anything else. Kagami had a certain sense of aesthetics. A shared appreciation for Adrien's appealing “tangible” attributes in addition to his kindness and gentleness testified to that. However, she never had an eye for design like Adrien or Marinette. It was ... difficult that Marinette couldn't share that part of her life – something that brought her so much joy – with both of them.

Finishing her tour of the room, Kagami smoothed her jeans and then sat on the edge of the chaise next to Marinette, angling her body and twisting at the waist so that she was looking down at the baker. Her weight and presence had Marinette sinking into the chaise and towards her, pulse rising when the side of her stomach knocked against the other girl's rear.

She bit her tongue as Kagami splayed her hand out on the fabric beside Marinette's shoulder, just brushing, feather light, against edge of her black shirt. Warmth built up against her side where she was touching her girlfriend. She wriggled in place. The intensity of Kagami's gaze suddenly had the frumpy clothes Marinette had put on today scraping against her skin like itchy wool. The dark heat of Kagami's stare and the way her nostrils flared with her deep, controlled breathing made her feel appreciated. Beautiful.

_Good lord, I'm still such a mess._

A rattle emanated from the hatch to Marinette's room, and Adrien's head poked up.

“I told your parents we- oh!” He coughed, surveying the two girls on the chaise in a way that had Marinette averting her eyes with a blush. “I didn't- uh – interrupt anything did I?” With a jerk of his thumb behind him, he gripped the edge of the hatch.

“I can come back later or ... stay. Whatever you'd rather.”

_He thought we were about to..._

“No, no!” Marinette exclaimed, rising up to a seated position and beckoning him forward with a flail of her arm. “You came just-” _oh God, word choice_ “-I mean _arrived_ just in time. Nothing lick- _like_ that!”

_Really a huge, hot garbage fire of a mess._

But that was actually something of a comfort. It was ... a normal huge hot garbage fire of a mess.

“I believe that we are in need of a serious conversation,” Kagami added with a pointed look at Marinette that, were she not already squirming, would have had left her so.

Right. That was entirely true and necessary, and if she could stop being “herself” for a minute, in about half a dozen ways, they could actually have it.

Shuttering the hatch behind him, Adrien slid into the room quite gracefully and moved to sit on the other side of the chaise, his greater weight shifting the couch so that Marinette was now listing slightly towards him.

Kagami hrumphed.

The following reorganization of their positions as Adrien and Kagami jockeyed for a better place on the chaise ended with both of them laying out alongside Marinette, Adrien propped up on his side, looking down at the two girls with his arm slung over their waists casually. Kagami stroked his wrist and forearm, her other arm curled under her head. For her part, Marinette just restrained herself from sputtering as she was held between them.

It was cramped, but just the right kind of cozy.

“Kagami mentioned that you wanted to talk about how much time we were spending together,” Adrien said. There was truth to that, but only a partial one, and Marinette had to live with too many of those due to her double-life.

“I thought that was it,” she said, turning into Adrien's chest, “but that might be part of a bigger problem, really.”

“There is no problem that is too large for the three of us to address, I am certain,” Kagami added from her side.

“Yeah,” Adrien enthused. “You're both great with plans... most of the time.”

“It's everything hitting me at once,” Marinette loosed in a rush, just to get it out. “Designs, school, work. I just kind of... lost track of things until I was buried.”

Adrien's lips pulled to the side in an expression that was thoughtful, but neither a smile nor a frown.

“There's something else, though, isn't there? Something worse?”

“I-uh.” She reached behind her to tug her cat pillow from behind Adrien's head and pressed it against her chest, which, for whatever reason, had a small smile flit across the boy's face before he became serious again.

“It's my... um...”

“Anxiety?” Kagami supplied with an arched brow.

Leave it to Kagami not to beat around the bush and put her and Adrien back on track. Without her, they probably would have just kept stumbling around each other in circles for the next five years.

“Yeah,” she nodded with an even tighter squeeze of her pillow. “It's been really bad over the last few days, and I think that it's getting worse. I've had a few... It's hit me a few times this week.”

“And you apologized for not seeing how _I_ was struggling?” Kagami said with a frown.

“Yeah. I- I didn't...” she trailed off and looked away to her work area. The jacket that Aurore Beauréal had commissioned still hung above her sewing machine.

“She didn't want to bother us,” Adrien added with a look of pain that Marinette couldn't understand, sharing a glance with Kagami and steepling a finger to his mouth.

“I see,” Kagami added tightly, her body stiffening, muscles taut when Marinette passed a hand over her arm in a failed effort to comfort her.

"I told my parents that I'm not doing...well."

"How did they take it?" Adrien asked, his voice low. Of course it was, because, even if he knew better, knew _they_ were better, his instinctual responses and his fears were still coloured by his father.

"Did they have a suggestion as to what you might do?" Kagami inquired. Always practical. Except when she let her emotions get away from her.

"Good,” Marinette affirmed with a nod, and relished the way that both of them relaxed, their bodies melding just a little bit closer to hers while at the same time their hold on her tightened.

“They... they really listened this time. Sometimes, they're so busy that it's like they can't really see anything more than me... overreacting.”

“I'm glad that you felt that you could talk to them about it, Marinette,” Adrien said, though he glanced away from her towards the window.

“And that they were willing to attend to your concerns,” Kagami added.

Marinette's throat clenched. They didn't have anyone who would do that, after all.

They should. And they would. She would make sure of it.

They all deserved someone – more than just some _one_ – who they could be honest with. Maybe that was her mother, her father, each other, or her – all of them if she could arrange it.

Were they two people who she could be _completely_ honest with?

“Guys...”

Adrien silenced her by pressing a finger to her mouth, smooth and gentle, trailing from the philtrum to drag down her lower lip, sticking for a second on the wetness.

His eyes blew wide when Marinette pulled back to kiss the tip, followed by the first and second knuckles in a rush of alien confidence. She had to at least _try_ to keep up.

“Uh, I-um-” The chagrined expression that crossed his face while he trailed off had Marinette smirking in the same way she did when rebuffing Chat Noir playfully.

“I think what Adrien means to say,” Kagami interjected while shaking her head at the two of them, “is that we're talking about you right now. Whatever our issues, we can deal with them later.”

“Right, well...” By way of silent thanks to her girlfriend, she loosed the ties that bound her pigtails, letting her hair fall free.

There were many reasons she almost never wore her hair down; one of them was that look on Kagami's face as she froze up while Marinette smoothed out her hair. Couldn't let her get used to the sight.

That was a far more fun kind of “brain freeze” than the one they got on occasion from their shared ice cream. Quite flattering too.

“They're going to try to set up an appointment with our GP,” Marinette continued. “I don't know what she'll be able to do, but it's something. It's good just to know that I can just... talk to a professional.”

“If necessary,” Kagami replied haltingly, her eyes still following the slow strokes of Marinette's hand through her hair, “she should be able to direct you to a specialist, at least.”

“Thank you for being willing to talk to us about this, Marinette,” Adrien said, having clearly recovered at least a veneer of calm. “It's ... it's a relief to know that whatever you're going through, you have someone who knows what she's doing and can help you.”

“Yeah. It really is.” She inclined her head to him and then perked up.“Speaking of which, though, how did you know that I needed help? You said that you'd tell me when Kagami got here.”

“We were informed of the situation by Alya,” Kagami said. The subtle tension in her voice had Marinette guide her girlfriend to play with the edge of her hair, which seemed to relax her. “She was most concerned about you.”

“What? How did she know?”

“Adrien is more familiar with the details,” Kagami offered while transitioning from Marinette's hair to gentle feather-strokes of her neck. “She contacted him first, but allow me to say that my estimation of her has improved dramatically.”

Marinette had to fight off a wince at that. Of course. Though the Japanese girl had been willing to forgive Marinette for her _hideous_ behaviour at both the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie premier and for bad-mouthing her to Alya during the cross-Paris scavenger hunt, she had never really had a positive relationship with Marinette's civilian best friend. Presumably, their mutual distaste was due to their having gotten off on the wrong foot, but Kagami was tight-lipped about the matter.

"Alya smelled a story,” Adrien clarified. “She hunted down Madame Bustier and then a few of the other teachers, badgering everyone with questions about you."

"She did?"  
  
"Yeah,” the boy continued, releasing an uneasy puff of breath. “It was actually kind of intimidating. Then she got me on the line, explained what was going on, and we called up Kagami for a group chat."

"She informed us of the difficulties that you were having and the three of us felt that we would be able to assist you."

“She didn't ask to come along?” Marinette wondered. It was rather unlike Alya to leave things in other peoples' hands; she didn't sit on the sidelines, always having to be in the thick of things.

“No, actually. She said that we should handle it,” Adrien said in a tone that was as uncomprehending as Marinette was surprised. Then he snapped his fingers. “Oh, and I forgot to mention that Principal Damocles is willing to let you retake the math quiz."

"You went to the principal about me?"

"No, actually. Alya again. She couldn't get by the secretary, but when she talked to me about it, I just had to phone him last night."

_Oh, Alya. You're getting the biggest hug tomorrow, girl._

"You have the principal's home phone number?" she asked with a disbelieving shake of her head.

Adrien looked offered her his characteristic shy neck-rub. "Comes with the name, I guess."

"And he agreed?" Marinette boggled at the thought and also the surprising sensation of her girlfriend teasing the hem of her tight black shirt, rough fingertips brushing by the soft skin of Marinette's belly. Little radiant electric shocks had her toes curling. Clearly, the other girl was feeling a little left out, but Marinette was not about to reward that kind of behaviour.

"Apparently,” Adrien dragged out, the quirk of his brows and focus of his eyes making it clear that he was quite content to just sit back and let Kagami be a terrible little flirt. “There were no pop quizzes listed in the initial course plan, so..."

“Wow,” Marinette breathed as the tingling in her belly grew more insistent before swatting at Kagami's hand lightly, forcing her to retreat with an utterly self-satisfied look on her face.

“I really need to thank Alya in person. Heck, I don't even know how I can thank you guys enough for everything that you've done...”

She didn't say 'everything that they had given up.'

“Well,” he offered, “I can think of one thing, Marinette.”

“Name it,” she assured him. Neither Adrien nor their girlfriend was the kind of person who would ask for something she couldn't give, even if she got the feeling that Kagami wanted it. That was a whole different issue.

One that they should probably talk about eventually.

“I want you to consider giving up your part-time job in the bakery,” he said softly.

Maybe she had been wrong. That was... kind of selfish. Whether that was on his part or hers or both, she wasn't quite sure.

"Adrien, my parents need the help,” she objected as she reared up slightly, pulling away from her girlfriend. “I can't just abandon them.”

“I'm not asking you to,” he placated with a nervous gesture of his hands. “I'm just asking if maybe you could think about it?”

With haste that actually had Marinette clench her jaw in annoyance, Kagami broke in: “If they need help, it will be relatively simple for them to hire an extra member of staff. _Tom and Sabine's_ is famous, especially after that endorsement from Jagged Stone.”

The cool and forceful logic of that statement, taking over where Adrien had deferred to her in that overly-acquiescing way of his, made the gentle dog-pile worse.

“That was just a one-time thing,” she retorted weakly.

“Marinette, please,” Adrien scoffed but in a way that buoyed her spirits. “Anyone who tasted your father's macarons would be coming back.”

“Just the macarons?” Kagami inquired. “I quite enjoyed the croissant.”

“There are plenty of things that would get people to come back,” Adrien acknowledged, “but those macaron are the second best thing that he's ever made.”

Adrien adored her father's macarons? How bizarre.

“What's the- oh...” she trailed off.

Stuttering madness ensued.

“Well said, Adrien. Quite true,” Kagami affirmed eagerly while Marinette tried to compose herself.

After taking a few seconds to do just that, both Kagami and Adrien waiting patiently for her - though Kagami actually appeared to be enjoying the sight of her minor blushing breakdown – Marinette was able to compose herself and reply properly.

“I need that money for side projects and practice. Commissions aren't everything. I won't be able to buy fabric and replacement tools."

"You.... _do_ know who I am, right?” Adrien asked slowly. “The Agreste mansion takes up a block of prime Parisian real estate."

"Marinette, I say this without boasting: we are both exceedingly wealthy. We would gladly finance your projects."

The very idea of ... using them in that way, like she cared for them because of what they could give her. Disgusting.

"I'm not going to take money from you!” Marinette exclaimed with a series of wild chops of her hands. “Either of you!"  
  
"Alright, then, Marinette," Adrien acquiesced, drawing an uncertain frown from Kagami that morphed into one of her lopsided grins as he continued.

"If that's the way you feel, I'll just have to buy you things at random. " He reviewed Marinette's sewing area with a pensive, analytic glare, pursing his lips together into a judgmental frown. "How about a new sewing machine. Let's start there."

Kagami reached over to stroke their boyfriend's chest and hummed thoughtfully. "And she will, of course, require several bolts of fabric to test it," she added.

“You-”  
  
"Oh, absolutely," Adrien cut in with a sage nod.  
  
"I'll solicit Gabriel Agreste's opinion regarding his favored materials."

"An excellent idea, Tsurugi-san.” Adrien's voice came out with a mock-officious lilt. A twitch in his cheek mitigated the stern expression that he tried to adopt by setting his mouth in a frown and straightening his back. “I foresee that we will have a productive partnership as Mlle. Dupain-Cheng's patrons."

"Well, exceptional talent must be nurtured, Agreste-dono."

“Indubitably.”

" _Guys_ ," Marinette groaned, scooping up her pillow and smacking it into her face, only to peek out from its edge.

"So,” Adrien drawled, showing off his teeth in smirk that was teasing and brilliant at once, “are you going to give us a list, or should we just start wheeling bolts of fabric in by the truck-load?"

“Please, Marinette,” Kagami asked. “It would be a relief to know that we are able to help you.”

Devilishly clever. Downright evil. Make giving _her_ gifts a kindness towards _them_.

"Fine," Marinette pouted. Even though they couldn't see it behind the pillow, she hoped that her eyes alone conveyed the message, wagging a finger at the two of them. "But only what I ask for and nothing more, okay?"

"If it's reasonable."

“And?” Adrien pressed while also flopping over so that his torso crushed her into her mattress, forcing her to drop her cat pillow to the floor. She almost giggled hysterically at the heat and weight of him, especially when he teased his finger over that ticklish spot just above her hip. His flat stomach was flush against hers and through their clothes the uneven curves of his abs were obvious.

“Okay, okay,” she giggled, pushing away at his hand halfheartedly. “I'll talk to my parents about a lighter workload.”

“You see?” Kagami preened as she threw an arm over Adrien so that she was half-hugging them both. “I told you to start from an aggressive negotiating standpoint. Now we have exactly what we really wanted.”

“I hate you both,” Marinette growled.

“No, you looove us,” Adrien drawled, his breath tickling her neck, and she squirmed.

They spent a few minutes laughing and, most unfairly, ganging up on her with plaintive teasing and ribbing, rolling her up in a cuddle-pile that she, and she felt, they, really needed until they extracted the truth from her.

_She did love them._

And she poured as much of her sincere affection and care into it as she could, giving each one a gentle kiss, one to Adrien's palm and one to Kagami's forehead, that they both positively glowed.

After settling down and readjusting their clothing, which was merely dishevelled by the cuddling and tickling and not disturbed by anything less wholesome than that, Kagami sighed in a way that had Marinette tensing up. Adrien likewise grew slightly stiff at her side.

It took every ounce of self-control that she had to wait for Kagami to settle whatever it was in her own mind and not simply blurt out in an anxious fluster. Fortunately, Adrien was there, solid and comforting against her back, and he seemed to feel it with her, setting a hand to her stomach to hold her against his chest to feel it rise and fall.

“While you are not indebted to us in any way,” Kagami began at last, “I do have a request. It would be payment in full.”

“Name it, Kagami,” Marinette assured and took solace from her girlfriend's grateful nod.

“I... I find it very difficult to understand how you two are feeling sometimes,” Kagami said. The healthy rosiness of her throat created by the contrast between the flattering fuchsia of her blouse and her natural skin tone paled slightly. “I know that it doesn't always seem that way, but it is true nonetheless.”

Seeing the distressed glance that Kagami threw in Adrien's direction as if she was seeking affirmation or support, Marinette began to berate herself mentally. Kagami felt deeply, but not in quite the same way as them, and they hadn't really been considering that in the way that they should. It became obvious from the wince Adrien shared with her that he was thinking much the same way.

That just wouldn't do.

Acting in tandem in a way that Marinette hadn't expected, almost instinctively in-sync, Adrien gave a light press to Kagami's shoulders while Marinette squeezed the girl's legs before, testing her response first and finding no resistance, in one fluid motion, they had her resting between them, her back to Adrien's chest, his arm thrown over the two much smaller girls. Marinette scooted down to tuck her head under Kagami's chin.

“Keep going, please, Kagami,” Marinette breathed into her girlfriend's blouse, though breathing itself grew slightly more difficult when her girlfriend clutched the prospective fashion designer to her chest roughly. “We're listening.” 

“It is often very clear when something is amiss,” Kagami began, and it hurt in a way because she was hesitating to find the right words. “But the reason usually escapes me. When you don't tell me things, or when you stop talking to me, I don't know if I have done something wrong.”

“Oh, 'Gami. I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“Marinette, she's not saying that to make you feel guilty. It's not about who's wrong or apologies. I think that we all... we all have problems, and if we don't talk about them- I...”

“It builds resentment,” Marinette affirmed, recalling Tikki's advice from earlier that week: resentment at them for failing to see the problem; resentment at her for failing to tell them. And, of course, the same was true in reverse regarding whatever burdens they had in their lives.

“And it hurts me when we do not talk about them. If I'm doing something wrong, please just tell me, and if I am not... please tell me that too.”

“I... I'll try to do better – to make sure that I let you know as much as I can, but-” Her throat tightened up. “I may not be able to tell you everything, Kagami. I'm- I'm so sorry.”

“Marinette, there are parts of our lives that we might not be ready to share, and that's okay,” Adrien assured, though he seemed to be speaking more to Kagami than her. “ All of us have things that we can't talk about for whatever reason, but Kagami is right that one of those reasons should never be because we don't want to be a burden to each other.”

All the boy's sweetness sometime hid just how clever he was – how he could feel his way through things at times. She really didn't give the two of them enough credit.

Still, the sudden distant, pensive look on his face was baffling.

As if sensing their boyfriend's ambivalent distress, Kagami shifted so that her back was to Marinette. Rather than making her feel excluded, the move had her smiling at the sight of her girlfriend reaching up to run her nails over his scalp, playing with the messy shock of blonde hair in quiet encouragement to continue.

“With ... my father,” Adrien continued in an even tone because, Marinette thought sadly, he had largely come to terms with 'his father', “you keep quiet because it's not important enough to bother him, and maybe that's why I never even thought about how being honest about our problems is ... is everything. If not, you could end up hating the people that you loved. Things build up and explode and you just hurt the people you care about.”

Even as he pressed his scalp into Kagami's fingers, Adrien didn't seem wholly present with them, but Marinette herself barely registered that fact. 

_She_ had done exactly that, and it was horrible.

Shifting upwards to gain easier access to the nape of Kagami's neck, just below the edge of her hair, Marinette nuzzled the exposed flesh. Her girlfriend smelled of ... something close to chocolate but even more floral. It was unlike anything that Marinette had encountered, and it tugged at some unknown instinct, soothing that ache.

“Your father is an ass,” Kagami said simply, and Marinette snorted into her neck, triggering a little shudder through her girlfriend.

Pulling back to watch both of them more clearly, she studied Adrien's face as he let loose an uncomprehending flurry of blinks. His forehead lowered to press against Kagami's temple, their noses brushing in a teasing nuzzle, and though she could not see his face clearly, she felt the grin. 

“Yeah,” he said when he withdrew. “Sometimes he is.”

How could she ever have idolized that man? The same way that many of Adrien's fans “loved” him, she supposed.

“Crappy father aside, Adrien,” she said without venom, trying to soothe while Kagami supported, “I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me or Kagami about things, and I should have respected you both enough to let you help.”

“There's much that we all have to learn about ... life and how we wish to life it,” Kagami added.

“I'm just glad that I've got people around me who can actually help me to do that,” Adrien said with a sigh.

_Oh, Adrien. You deserve to have that in your life – people who actually want to help you to grow, but I think that we all need that._

“Actually, there's one other thing about... having people around to help us," Marinette said, her tone rising almost as if she was asking a question - or asking permission. She could be strong in this – actually tell them what she needed so that they could work through it together.

“Is there some other way in which we can assist you?” Kagami asked.

"Not quite. I... I know that we have to keep this to ourselves, at least for now, and I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but I think my GP's not the only person who I need to talk to...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has had a conversation with her two parents and her two paramours. 
> 
> All that remains are her two best friends.


	11. Friendship-ing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug meets up with her partner and they reflect, in circuitous fashion, on their responses. Communication is really rather difficult when you can only speak in half-truths and insinuations, and much remains unsaid and unresolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next and final chapter of this story will be posted tomorrow.

Assuring Marinette that they had each other covered for explanations and excuses to Adrien's bodyguard, Adrien and Kagami left for the evening. It was likely that they both knew that the hulking man would “buy” whatever cock-and-bull story they passed off after being bribed with a variety of choux puffs. “The Gorilla” saw much more than he pretended to, and after that day when Kagami confessed to her and stared down the stony man, Marinette felt that they'd had the blessings of the closest thing that Adrien had to a _real_ father.

Also, she may have still been _slightly_ salty over Adrien's description of Gabriel's dismissive attitude on top of everything else.

Resolving not to allow such a dour thought to spoil her mood, which had been bolstered by real academic progress, honest conversation, and some quality hardcore cuddling (Tikki expressed her hearty approval for all three), Marinette sent off a grateful text to Alya and asked to meet with her at a cafe roughly halfway between their two homes for lunch tomorrow afternoon. An immediate confirmation was sent her way.

After dinner with her parents and the fall of night, she took to the sky as Ladybug.

He was waiting for her, just as she knew he would be, though she hadn't expected her yo-yo's locator to point her towards the Eiffel Tower. Mingling fear and anticipation had her stomach rolling, fingers gripping the line of her yo-yo tight, savouring the way that it dug into her palms and grounded her even as it let her fly.

They had both been so stupid and silly and it was nonsensical for her to be jealous of anyone.

She thought back to those little sparking electric shudders as Kagami had lain next to her, teasing her belly with the soft yet precise play of her fingertips as Adrien held her tight against him.

Was her reluctance in that regard, and Kagami's relative readiness to take their relationship further than Marinette had ever considered in all her romantic musings, part of the problem? Not that there had been any real pressure, but they seemed ready for different things. Chat, on the other hand, appeared flirty and loose, comfortable in himself even if he was a dork. He'd probably ... done things with his girlfriend, which made Kagami's blushes in response to his advances, even if they weren't serious, _feel_ all the more threatening.

And there he was.

Little kitty on a roof, all alone until she arrived.

Chat sat with his legs dangling over the side of the platform, swinging them idly, but, as was so often the case over the last week, he seemed to ignore her as she alighted, instead continuing to gaze out over the field of lights.

Spooling up her yo-yo, which gave her something convenient to occupy her hands at least for a few moments, making things less awkward, she settled down roughly a meter from him, silent.

Together, they stared at the city, seconds ticking by into minutes like she was on a hot coal.

She dared a glance in his direction. His eyes were glazed and unfocused as if he was looking out on a mirage that could never come into focus.

“You remember when we fought Frozer?” he said, and she clutched at her knees, nearly leaping back another foot at the sudden break in the silence. “I mean- of course you do, but, uh- stupid question, I guess.”

“What about him?”

“I was just thinking that Paris was pretty beautiful when it was frozen over, wasn't it?” he asked, even though it didn't have the tone of a question.

She clenched her yo-yo between her hands as she rested her elbows on her thighs and leaned forward, throwing him a weird look.

“Don't get me wrong,” he hastened to clarify. “It was horrible what he'd done, but the city was just a field of crystal. Everything was covered over and clean and there was no pollution – just crisp air.”

“Chat, it was a frozen hellscape,” she squeezed out because this was not where she thought that their conversation was going to go.

He laughed. “Yeah. I guess I just have a tendency to romanticize things.”

“That's not always a bad thing. Sometimes, it's actually sweet,” she offered as an olive branch. Affirmations were a constant in her life – from her parents, teachers, Alya, classmates, Adrien, and Kagami, but those last two had taught her, helped her to understand rather than just know, that there were so many people in this world for whom that wasn't true. She didn't really know Chat - couldn't really know him. How much did he need to be told, even when he was wrong or did something wrong, that it was okay. You could make mistakes and still be loved. 

Marinette needed to be reminded of that too often.

“Maybe,” he grunted in reply.

“What's got you thinking about Frozer?”

“It was the day that I-” With a resigned sigh, he flopped backwards to stare up at the latticework of beams and supports that made up the the Eiffel tower. Lit for the night, it was a radiant haze above them, beams blending one into the other as the light had her squinting. ”The day I decided to try to give up.”

“On what?”

“You,” he said simply, and placed his baton in the space between them, a dark little dividing line against the grey steel of the platform.

“Chat...”

“This isn't another come-on or something,” he interjected hastily, turning to her and waving his hands back and forth in front of him. “I'm- well, not _over_ that, but done with it at least.”

“Okay,” she replied with a dubious frown.

“It took me a while to figure out why I was so angry.”

“Anyone has a right to feel hurt after being turned down, and I could have been nicer about it,” she said, wracking her brain to find something to say that would make them normal again.

But what _could_ she say to that? What would she know about that? She'd never actually steeled her courage and found the will to confess to Adrien. A relationship had just fallen into her lap like a gift, albeit one that more precious than anything she had dreamed, all the more so because a gift was given freely. Kagami and their boyfriend had been brave, unlike her.

Was even _Ladybug_ brave? What would she be, or fail to be, if that great webwork that buttressed her was taken away?

“And I could have shut my yap and taken no for an answer,” he grumbled, knocking his fist against his knee.

A harsh gust caught them exposed, cutting into the soft skin of her cheeks and nose and sending his baton rocking back and forth between them.

“I don't think that either of us is really good at that.” Granted, it was for different reasons. He couldn't take 'no' because he just pushed through the hurt to try again; she couldn't take 'no' because she had feared that it might break her, so she never tried.

“That's one of the reasons that I was angry, I think,” he continued while sitting up again.

“Hm?”

“I think that was the first time that I... _genuinely_ didn't like who I was, even if I didn't realize it at the time.” A claw rose to scratch at the edge of his mask, tracing the little raised swatch of black magical cloth that was like a second-skin because it almost fused to their flesh. “It was like you owed it to me to love me, and the fact that you didn't and that I felt like you should made me hate... everything, even myself.”

_Oh, kitty._

“You shouldn't, Chat,” she insisted. Irrationally unable to stand his staff sitting there any longer, she scooped it up as he watched. “You're a good person – a good friend and a better one than I've deserved for the last little while.”

She reached out, her arm extended fully to offer him his contracted staff - to bridge the gap between them.

“I think you've got that backwards, Ladybug.” A raised hand prevented her from objecting while the other closed around the baton that she proffered to him, his fingers just a few centimetres away from hers as she handed it over. “But that's not what I was getting at. I'm just saying that I was angry because I wasn't getting the love that I wanted – that I thought that I was _entitled_ to, but that was on me and ... other people in my life. It just came out all twisted.”

The baton clicked back to his belt, and, this time, he scooted closer, just that little bit that made all the difference, and she smiled at him, eyes watery behind her mask

“Chat, I don't know what your life is like, but I do know that all of us have days like that – when we treat other people unfairly because of all the things that are going on in our lives that have nothing to do with the ones we're actually hurting.”

He hummed and chuckled, and then in a move that had her utter baffled, he extended a hand towards her face. It was as if he was moving to cup her chin or cheek.

_God, he's not going to try to-_

And then it was too late because he was touching her - his clawed finger made contact as he -

\- booped her on the nose, careful to avoid scraping the bridge.

So that was what that felt like.

“We're a little on the nose, aren't we?” he said with a wink that was playful but somehow not flirty. She'd seen enough of those to tell.

“What?” she just managed to get out because with the warble behind the word and the way that her face warmed against the chill of the evening, she knew that she would start stuttering if she tried to offer anything more.

What the hell was with this cat?

“I mean, we both know what we're talking about, right?” he said with a shrug. A quick roll of his hips had him flipping up to his feet, motion jerky and exaggerated.

“Yeah. I guess we do.” And they did.

“So, then, I'll say it because you deserve it, Ladybug.” With hand to his heart, he bowed his head but not his body in a way that showed nothing of the silly little kitten that she had met when battling Stoneheart, and when he continued, the sincerity in his voice sent a pang and something else through her chest.

“I'm sorry. I thought that I was getting better – I mean, I've been trying- _really_ trying, but last night I was the same whiny little brat that I was with Frozer.”

The uncertain smile that became visible when he raised his head. That pinching around his eyes that were so earnest behind the candy green lenses of his mask.

The heat was getting worse.

“We- uh.” She was on her feet in an instant, gripping her yo-yo for support. It always made her feel stable, competent. “We were both pretty bad, Chat,” she affirmed.

He just kept smiling at her, now showing off teeth that were just as brilliant as those of Adrien, his face and grin rendered radiant by the lights of the tower.

“And that's as much my fault as it is yours,” she began to ramble. “Because I'm the one who's always saying that we can't talk about 'real' things and it's not like we could discuss how we were feeling. That just wouldn't be smart- you know, because of Hawkmoth and- and identities and everything.” She laughed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah.”

“You were right, though,” he replied as if utterly oblivious to her distress. “We can't talk about real things.”

“It's too dangerous with Hawkmoth and endless mind-control akumas out there.” Was she trying to convince herself because of what she had wanted – perhaps even what she had needed – while laying with Adrien and Kagami earlier that afternoon?

“I got that,” he added, and slumped. “I mean, I've seen _Sailor Moon_ – the whole 'Darien's mind-controlled by Queen Beryl thing' and mind wipes so they can stay safe and live normal lives.”

She blinked. That actually helped to get her back on track by reminding her that she was just dealing with her silly cat.

“Chat... I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Well, she knew the title because Adrien had introduced her to it, but she'd fallen asleep halfway through the first episode, much to his disappointment. Maybe Adrien really _would_ like Chat.

“Oh,” he huffed and scratched at his cheek bashfully. “Well, my point is that... I have people that I want to keep safe now, so I get it. I didn't before because it just seemed like a game and I won't lie and say that it's not still a thrill, but I _get_ it now.”

“You really do love her, don't you?” Ladybug offered with a smile, reaching out tentatively to grip Chat by the shoulder and give him a supportive squeeze. Firm muscle and a finely sculpted collar bone, hidden by the dark magical material of his suit, met her fingers.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, eyes shifting towards her hand. “Her. And it's not just ... her. It's a couple of people in my life who really matter to me and I don't want to be stupid and ruin things by risking our identities or anything else. I know there are things we can't talk about because it's too dangerous, and I'll try to keep that in mind as we go forward.”

“That's ... a very mature thing to say, Chat,” she enthused as she pressed closer and opened up her arms to give him a choice. He, like Kagami and, in his own way, Adrien, was very tactile, hungering for physical affirmation and it must have hurt him to keep his distance earlier on – or to see her with “Mitsubachi,” almost ignoring him. Maybe that was part of his problem. Between the two of them, there were more parts than they could count.

Hopefully, his girlfriend took the time to hold him properly, at least.

Apparently, he was okay with Ladybug supplementing mystery girl's efforts, as he pushed his way into her open arms for a lingering hug.

“I think – the ones we love shouldn't make us better people,” Ladybug said into his shoulder. “That's not on them, but they should make us _want_ to be better people.”

“Couldn't have said it better myself, Ladybug. My girlfr-” The little hiccuping pause during which an adorable pout quirked his lower lip filled Ladybug's stomach with effervescence. Must have been something she ate.

He shook his head and continued, but he was only half paying attention to her, even though she was in his arms: “My girlfriend is a really good person, you know? Kind and self-sacrificing, and just stupid stubborn. Always has time for people who need it. But she's cute and awkward in a whole bunch of ways, and laser focused, and she'd kick the butt of anyone who deserves it and do it with ... her own kind of style.”

“Sounds like a prime candidate for a miraculous,” she said, offering another attempt at validation while also subtly trying to reaffirm his commitment to the girl so that he might think twice about his shenanigans with Kagami.

Rolling laughter bubbled up, rocking his chest against her chin, and it had Chat pulling away from her hug to chortle his way to a support beam on which he rested his back. The reaction left her more than a little confused as she watched him rub at the lenses of his mask and strain to get his breathing under control.

What was so funny about his girlfriend having a miraculous?

“What did I say?”

“Nothing, Ladybug,” he said with a grin. “It's just that, uh, if you met her, you'd _definitely_ think that she's worthy of one. Too bad that you'd figure out my identity if I introduced you two.”

“I suppose that would be a problem,” she conceded, though she was still slightly miffed by his dismissive response.

“But I wasn't just trying to sing her praises, you know. Really, it's just like you said. When I look at who... she _is_ , I – I want to be worthy of her, but that's not right at all,” he finished with a frown and a slight slump. “I guess that she... inspires me in a lot of ways.”

Ladybug shook her head and joined Chat next to the arching joists that he was standing under, jabbing a fist into his shoulder.

“I get it, Chat. My boyfriend is one of the sweetest people that I've ever met. He's not perfect.” Adrien's non-response to Lila and his admittedly understandable penchant for passivity and hesitation proved that. “But he makes me want to understand how to support people better because that's what he tries to do for me.”

She thought of Kagami, and Alya, her parents, and all the different kinds of love that you could feel. It wasn't necessary to think of Chat; he was right here for her.

“Actually, a lot of people do,” she added.

“I'm glad, Ladybug.” He shook his head. His thin legs coiled up and one massive leap he was in the interlocking beams above them, wedging into the v-crux where two met, angled to one side.

“You know,” he added while smiling down at her. “I had a really good day today.”

The thin thwip of her yo-yo sounded out as it coiled around an adjoining set of beams. After testing the hold for a moment, the cord going taut and twanging in a way that she saw had Chat's ears twitching, she joined him.

“Did you?” she asked, relief all but palpable in her voice because that meant that she didn't have to feel guilty about how well the day had gone for her too.

“Yeah,” he sighed. His face was open and innocent just as it was when he was hugging that little boy a few days ago.

“I'm glad, Chat. So did I.”

“That's great, Ladybug.”

“Are we good?” she asked. Apologies had been offered, but she had to hear it confirmed.

Actually-

“Heck, yeah, Ladybug. We're great,” he affirmed while extending a fist to her. “Pound it?”

She did, knocking her fist against his in that oh-so-familiar way that brought them back full circle to where they always were, but with a little bit more knowledge. Maybe they would be a little wiser.

They still had to have a conversation regarding “Mitsubachi” and Chat's weird flirting in such a way as to nip that trigger in the bud while also concealing “Ladybug's” actual relationship with their partner, but that was for another day. It was enough that they had regained the ground that they had lost.

Whipping out his baton and thumbing the green paw-print on its front to extend it, the cat-boy braced himself for a leap.

“I should get going, though. Had a busy day, and I've got some major schoolwork to take care of tonight,” he explained.

“Sure, but there is one other thing,” Ladybug added the last part hastily, before he could leave.

“Yes, Ladybug?” He turned to look back at her.

“I'm sorry too.”

The grin he threw her way was _exactly_ what she expected from him, and, with a Chat Noir trademarked two-fingered salute, he pushed off from the edge of the tower, legs curled around his extending baton that sprung him into the air. With his characteristic aplomb, he ducked and weaved around buildings, curling through the air in errant swoops without any apparent direction.

It was about time for her to head home as well, really, and she took a fairly direct route to the _Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie_ where, after brushing her teeth and slipping into some loose pajamas, she collapsed into her warm and safe bed, Tikki capping off the day's cuddles by nuzzling up to her cheek.

One best friend who was owed apologies? Check. Tomorrow, one who was owed hugs and gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone else ever thought that Chat Noir's aggressive and petulant responses to rejection are, in fact, a result of partially-displaced resentment over his continual failure to “earn” his father's love, to which he feels he is, and is actually, entitled? Granted, Gabriel may love him, in his own way, but as Tikki noted in chapter 4, sometimes people, even if they love us, don't always do so in the way that we feel that we need or a way that is healthy for us. Right, Marinette's stalker schedule?
> 
> After actually articulating his feelings about his father last chapter, and the way in which he feels that he is not "listened to," Adrien has solidified this idea and connected it to his past behaviors. 
> 
> You may see rather baldfaced examples of his admitted romanticism in his discussion with Ladybug and his gestalt “girlfriend.” He's still growing, though Ladybug's failure to live up to all of his ideals is helping in that regard.


	12. A sister is born for a time of adversity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette meets with her civilian best friend and has an enlightening conversation. 
> 
> Wrenched between terror and relief, which has her giddy thoughts wandering, she proves even more oblivious than she is normally. 
> 
> In the end, she gets what she had needed for a long time, and Alya is okay with that too.

A reasonable history cram session on Sunday morning, complete with obligatory prayers and supplications to Kui Xing (she looked it up) becuase it couldn't hurt, had Marinette feeling at least moderately prepared for her test the next day.

Work done for the day, she checked her cell phone clock, and, as was typical for her, found herself slapping on an outfit that was just passable for a trip outdoors and then racing down the stairs, waving a hasty goodbye to her parents. An impressive jog, bolstered by just a little bit of frantic energy and her improved stamina thanks to regular rooftop runs, carried her through the winding Parisian streets. When she arrived at the rather quaint cafe where she'd agreed to meet Alya, her best civilian friend was already there, lounging in a chair at a table for two while, as usual, on her cell phone.

“Hey, girl!” Alya greeted with a wave. The normally slightly wild fringes of her hair had been tamed into submission and straightened, and she had forgone her typical slightly garish plaid shirt in flavor of a solid orange blouse. “Take a sec to get settled and I'll order for us. The usual?”

Breathlessly, Marinette nodded.

With that, Alya rose from the table and disappeared through the somewhat rustic wooden door to the cafe.

Sweat matted Marinette's hair to her brow, and she mopped at it while settling into the open seat.

As she tried to rearrange her clothing into something slightly more presentable, she double-checked her phone and found that her parents had sent her a warm but subtly concerned message. A quick apology text assured them that she was fine.

She had barely finished before Alya returned with a tray which held a pair of sandwiches, a large mug of steaming coffee, no doubt prepared just as Marinette liked it – unhealthily sweet – and a more refined cup of tea. The scent of jasmine wafted up, mingling with the harsher and rich caffeine smell of the coffee.

After Alya had set down the tray, but before she had the chance to sit down again, Marinette rose because she couldn't stand to wait another moment longer.

“Whoa!” Alya exclaimed as Marinette swept her up into a tight hug, resting her chin on Alya's shoulder. While the reporter was a much larger and more thickly-built girl, months of intense training as Ladybug had left Marinette with enough strength to heft the other girl off the ground for just a moment.

A few frantic taps to Marinette's back and a choked exhalation had her relent with a slightly embarrassed blush.

“Geez, girl! You practising for a wresting team or something?” Alya grimaced, rubbing at her ribs.

“Sorry,” Marinette apologized with a chortle. “I'm just really happy to see you.”

Dealing with Adrien and Kagami, who were pretty much pure muscle and could give as good as they got when it came to more ... viciously affectionate hugs, made it easy to misjudge her own strength sometimes.

“Likewise, girl, but you don't see me trying to break your ribs,” Alya groused good-naturedly while taking her seat.

“Trust me. If I'd been trying to break your ribs, I'd have done it.”

“Oh, I like the confidence. You really have been spending a lot of time with Kagami, huh?” Though it was clearly said in jest, a hint of a frown flashed across Alya's mouth and it left Marinette slightly unnerved.

“I can't thank you enough, Alya,” Marinette said, trying to compress a complex wealth of emotion into it. “You really saved my week by letting Adrien and Kagami know that I needed some help in school.”

Alya simply smiled, leaning back in her chair and fluffing up her red hair.

“Girl, you don't have to thank me,” Alya assured her in a tone so genuine that it actually made Marinette feel like she _didn't_ owe her friend more than she could repay. “Heck, I should have been more on top of things as part of student council, but I just threw everything on you. That couldn't have made things easier.”

“No. I was being silly and not asking for your help or theirs.” Silly wasn't the right word, of course, but better to play it off that way. Come to think of it, though, Alya _had_ been missing from a few council meetings. That was one of the reasons that so little work had been done.

“Nothing's wrong on your end, though, right?” Marinette stressed, caught with the sudden concern that she too may have been overlooking something important.

Retrieving a sandwich and taking a surprising dainty bite, Alya shook her head.

“Nah, girl. I've just been racing around, tugging on every thread that I can to get info on that Bee hero, and all I have is a few photos. You know how I am; I can get really excited, especially about the superheroes.”

“Trust me,” Marinette half-groaned, making a mental note to have 'Ladybug' speak to Mitsubachi regarding a possible interview. “I knew that from the moment that we met and you basically told me that you lived your life based on Majestia's example.”

“Hey, I was thirteen, okay? Not the old maid I am now.”

“My point is that it was clear that you had superheroes on the brain,” Marinette offered, taking a sip of her coffee. Good lord. It was sweet to the point of having her grimace.

Perfect.

“Yeah,” Alya said with a sad laugh before looking off towards another pair of girls gossiping at a nearby table. “Ah, about that... Nino was right, you know?”

“When?”

“When I was fighting with Adrien. He was right that I just want to do... _something_ ,” she said, keeping her voice measured though the strain was clear on her face. It was an almost ... grotesque and alien look on her – something that suggested mingled sorrow and self-loathing. “'Cause I blew my chance, girl. I let Ladybug down when she needed me. I showed her that I couldn't be trusted.”

Oh. So _Marinette_ hadn't overlooked anything at all. That was wholly on Ladybug.

“Alya, that's not true at all,” she assured while making yet another mental note to have Ladybug affirm the same thing during the next interview she offered to the Ladyblog.

“It really kind of is,” Alya retorted, resigned, and took another sip of her tea. “She's not going to give me a miraculous again after that CCTV footage came out after that mess with _Miracle Queen_ , and I just thought... the blog is all that I can do, you know? To show everyone how amazing she is and everything that she does for us. People can forget that when she saves them everyday, when it becomes normal, but it's not and she's not. They're... _extraordinary_.”

“It's not just her, you know,” Marinette said, conflicted, because how can you hear someone talk about you like that and not feel guilty and abashed and puffed up and slighted on behalf of her partners who did just as much as her? “She has a lot of help. Without the people who support her, she wouldn't be able to do anything.”

“Yeah. Chat does seem to have his head on straight these days, but the bee is keeping the bad-ass levels firmly on the female side of the scales,” Alya added a little too enthusiastically as she raised her half-empty cup. “Respect.”

“Well, of course she needs the other heroes,” Marinette granted while toasting 'Mitsubachi' alongside Alya, “but she must have family to support her too. And friends.”

“Sure, and I wanted to be one of those people.” After a moment's pause, Alya's voice dropped into a slight hush. “Even if it wasn't while I was wearing a mask, so ... the blog. And if that was what I was going to do, well, you know that I can get, like, a one-track mind. Like a dog on a bone.”

Oh, how desperately Marinette wished to be able to tell her that she was one of those people – one of the people who helped Ladybug on a daily basis.

“You're determined, Alya,” Marinette offered because that attitude was the thing that, along with Chat's encouragements, had convinced Ladybug to even _be_ a hero. Her two best friends made her who she was. “That's one of the things that people respect about you – that Nino loves about you.”

“Yeah, but that means that I don't see things sometimes, and that I lose track of them.” Her cup clattered against the table as she set it down roughly and pinched her forehead with a thumb and forefinger before looking up.

“I-uh... I never meant to lose track of you too, girl,” she finished, throat bulging slightly with a nervous swallow.

“Oh, Alya," Marinette breathed and reached out to put a comforting hand over the other girl's wrist. “I never thought that for a minute. I know that things haven't been great between us lately, but you really helped me out. You're a- you're a really good friend, and I'm sorry for not... talking to you more."

The affirmation and the memories of just _how_ good a friend she was, despite all their problems and all Marinette's continual lies, had tears pricking at her eyes too.

“Hey, hey, babe,” Alya soothed. “What's wrong?" Scooting her chair closer, she wrapped an arm around Marinette, squeezing in a way that had the smaller girl feeling comfortably warm. Safe. It was like being held by her papa.

Marinette shook her head into Alya's shoulder. “I've- I don't know. I've just been ... hiding a lot."

"I get that too, girl." The slow words had Alya's chin nearly massaging the top of Marinette's head.

"I don't think that you do, Alya,” Marinette replied, pulling back from the firm but gentle hug and smoothing out her shirt with a sniff. “There's something that I should have told you, but..."

"Girl," Alya assured so, _so_ gently with a light stroke of Marinette's hair. "I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah,” Alya nodded and her hand trailed down from the tight lines of hair held firm by Marinette's pigtails, thumb just skimming by the baker's cheek, so that Alya could squeeze her upper arm “What you've been hiding. I get it.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, bubbling concern tightening up her lungs as she pulled back from the hug. If Alya _actually_ knew, then they had made some horrible mistake – slipped up. If she knew, then Gabriel or Tomoe could find out too.

“I mean, I didn't think that I'd done anything to let it slip,” Marinette prodded in search of confirmation. Then, she bit her lip, the stinging pain focusing her and preventing her from vomiting her concerns or giving something critical away based on assumptions.

“You played your cards pretty close to the vest,” Alya granted.

“We, uh ... kinda had to.”

“Listen, girl,” Alya began, her face falling as she worried her hands together. “If I ever made you feel like you had to hide it from _me_ , or that I wouldn't accept it – well, I'm sorry because I'm a pretty shitty friend."

"No- no,” Marinette denied firmly because Alya believing that for a _second_ was even worse than her knowing. “I always knew that you'd support me, even if we had our problems. It's just..."

"Kagami's mom?” Alya offered, looking up from her lap. “From what I hear, at least."

"Yeah. That's one reason,” Marinette said, taking a moment to polish off her coffee just to buy herself some time. Lukewarm and sweet, it turned her stomach. Tentatively, clutching the empty mug in her hands, she asked softly, “How did you figure it out?"

"You kidding, girl?” A little scoff had Alya sounding like herself again.”You should have seen the look on Kagami's face when I told her about what was going on. Scary as hell."

"She can be kind of intense,” Marinette granted and bit back a retort because Alya's voice descended into something just slightly bitter. It pricked a 'Ladybug' defensive instinct. Kagami was _not_ 'scary;' just ... emotionally different. Like Marinette herself was different.

“But she's a good person," Marinette stressed.

Alya leaned back in her chair to study Marinette, and the intense furrowing of her brow that caused the mole on her forehead to pop had Marinette feeling like she was being... not _judged_ but assessed, prompting her to lean into her best friend's space slightly to try to close the distance. This scene, or ones like it, had played out in Marinette's mind a dozen times: being _found out._

Alya's typical exuberance regarding relationships, surprise mingled with some anger at Marinette's deception, even mute shock had been possible, but this uncertain, penetrating stare, like Marinette was the subject of a tricky interview, had never crossed her mind.

Finally, Alya broke out into a smile, her hazel eyes fluttering as she she was being shaken awake, and she gave Marinette's shoulder a light shove.

"Yeah. That wasn't fair. Anyone who has got the good taste to be in love with you can't be all bad," she added with a nod.

Rather than inspiring terror, it had Marinette wilting in unexpected relief, elbows and forearms collapsing to the table to support her suddenly limp body as yet another weight sloughed off.

"So you _did_ figure it out. I- I wasn't really sure until you said it.” Someone _knew_. Someone whom she trusted and loved and could _talk_ about things with in a way that she couldn't with Adrien or Kagami or her parents.

“Hey, you've got to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over my eyes, and, love you, girl,” Alya teased in a way that had Marinette chortling in her typically awkward way, “but that's never going to happen with you. Do you even know what early is?”

“10:00 AM?” Marinette offered, though that was only half a joke.

“See?” Alya pressed, throwing both of her hands up in front of her, palms to the sky as if she had just given up on her perpetually-tardy friend.

Marinette kind of deserved that.

They polished off the vestiges of their sandwiches, and Alya thumbed towards the little promenade just across the street that curved off into the distance. After collecting their plates and mugs and dropping them off inside, the pair ambled along in companionable and comfortable silence, taking in the scenery and it just felt so normal, like nothing at all had changed and they were just _them_ again.

Her thoughts throughout their entire walk fixated on that feeling and she wondered how much healing could be done if she was honest about everything to Alya, Adrien, and Kagami, despite the fact that she had agreed with Chat last night that there were so many things they had to hide. That would just be unfair to him on so many levels. If _anyone_ knew, he deserved to be first.

At Alya's gestured invitation, they sat together on a park bench to watch the traffic pass them by.

It was then that Alya, her voice soft and inquiring, though Marinette couldn't fathom the question, spoke again.

“I didn't know that you had those kind of feelings, girl.”

Marinette shrugged helplessly as she resettled herself on the hard, unyielding wood of the bench.

“Neither did I until Kagami,” she admitted with a slight flush, assailed by the memory of Kagami shirtless. Stupid atypical brain chemistry and hormones always ganging up on her.

“How did it happen?”

“It was ... the magic of Andre's ice cream, I guess,” Marinette said, feeling just a little bit smug at the indignant glare that Alya threw at her. “I don't know. We just... clicked. I mean, it took hard work and I really didn't get it for a while, but I realized that I loved spending time with Kagami.”

“No 'we got locked in a tiger cage' moment, for you?” Alya stressed the question, elbowing Marinette cheekily.

“Well...” Marinette drawled, half-teasing and half reluctant because it was mortifying to admit, but also exhilarating in a way that had her entire body warming up and comforting because gabbing about cute guys ... or girls, as per your preference, was what you were supposed to do with a best friend. It was something a _teenager_ was supposed to do.

“Come on,” Alya prodded, a feral light in her eyes. “Spill to your bestie.”

“... she's got really nice abs,” Marinette whispered, practically into her own chest as she just burned up on the spot. So this was how spontaneous human combustion happened.

Alya went slack-jawed for a moment, her cheeks actually darkening as she plucked off her glasses as if she couldn't believe her own eyes and ears.

The stupor gave Marinette a moment to take one further mental step.

Contemplating the inciting incident that woke her up to the fact that a girl could be “attractive,” it seemed like she might have some varied and unexpected interests between the whole “abs” thing and the way she responded to Adrien eating... or drinking.

_I can live with that._

There was a dangerous half-formed thought that involved those two ... interests coinciding in some vague way, though her brain couldn't quite fit the pieces together.

“Girl, you're a perv!” A sentence that began in a breathy whisper turned into an enthused shout. Alya slapped one hand to her mouth as if aghast while giving Marinette a shake that rattled her out of her rather appealing thoughts and memories. That might be an accurate assessment... and it was _normal_ teasing.

“This is a whole new side of you,” Alya said, looking like a mother who was watching her little baby girl taking her first steps. “And I'm so proud.”

“So,” Marinette said with a sigh as she rubbed her cheeks to try to hide her blush. “That's how I started to figure out that I liked spending time with her and that she was... good-looking.”

“I think that's usually how it is, though some of us have our 'tiger cage moment',” Alya admitted nonchalantly, her mood downshifting in a way that Marinette didn't quite understand. “You start realizing things and they don't quite line up with what you thought – or what you were told was normal.”

“I think that Kagami did too.”

Passing a thumb over her upper lip and then biting her nail between her teeth, Alya appeared to be contemplating that as she mumbled out around her nail, “So you were each other's wake-up call?”

“Yeah.” An interesting turn of phrase. A Kagami alarm clock. Blinking her eyes open to that kind of sight in the morning would certainly have her ... roused. “Pretty much.”

“When was this, again?” Alya asked, withdrawing her thumb and lacing her fingers in front of her.

“It took a little while, but Andre's was about three months ago.”

“I missed this for three _months_?” Alya gaped. “Man, I'm bad at my job! I should have talked with Kagami weeks ago.”

“You didn't even know that there was a story to investigate,” Marinette reassured her. “You said that you realized it when you spoke with her,” she continued hastily with a little roll of her hands to encourage her best friend to, in her words, 'spill.' “Did she do anything specific to tip you off?"  
  
"Not really. It was like... she just seemed angry at first. It got worse when she heard that you were struggling at school, then Adrien started talking about how we had to help you because you're such a _good friend_ ," she mocked lightly with a quirk of her brow.

 _Oh, Adrien._ So kind. Radiant. Dreamy. _Far_ from carefree. Such a caring dork every now and then, especially when he kept on using that phrase, an inside joke, to rob it of its power and its bitterness because to the world that was all they could be.

“Did he actually say that?” she scoffed while knocking a fist against her forehead.

“Yeah.”

“And what did Kagami do?” That should be good. The answer, however, was not quite what she expected.  
  
“She started to talk about you and _how_ good you were to her and everyone, like it was obvious. She had this little soft look in her eyes, and * _bam_ *” - Alya smacked a fist into her palm to emphasize her point. “I got it.“

What was even Marinette's life at this point? She was just bouncing around between pretty much everyone in her circle because * _whoops_ * now _you_ need a hug! Kagami to Adrien to Kagami and Adrien to Chat to Alya and back to Kagami again. A human ping-pong ball of hugs.  
  
"And- uh, I have to ask.” And she did, even though she knew. “You won't say anything, right?"

"I'd take it to my grave if that's what you needed me to do,” Alya said, and that deadly seriousness had a shudder trailing its way down Marinette's spine, “though I'd miss out on being a bride's maid."

"Maid of Honour, obviously, Alya."  
  
“Obviously, but you don't have to worry. Adrien was right: I _am_ better than a tabloid journalist.” She frowned, tight lines of frustration settling across her face. "I would _never_ out someone who's in the closet, especially someone who has to be because Kagami's mom is a witch."

Hearing that made her feel ... weird, though it had nothing to do with Alya herself, who, as if sensing a spiral not into anxiety but still into her own mind, stroked Marinette's thigh lightly.

It hit her only just now and it was so stupid that it had taken her this long.

That- that was what she was.

A _closeted_... poly ... bisexual. Wow, that was complex. How do you deal with that at fifteen?

The label scrapped around her brain, never quite fitting into any conceptual crevice. She had just ... felt how she felt, been who she was, at least in those rare moments when it was just _them_ and she actually could.

Of course she had come to accept that she liked girls – or, at least, Kagami because no other girl seemed to have turned her head. 

With the hand that was not tracing soothing patterns on Marinette's upper leg, Alya was fiddling with the pleated folds of her blouse, waiting for her to process.

It was obvious that she couldn't tell people about Kagami... but she had never even _thought_ of it that way. She and Kagami and Adrien were “in the closet” because her girlfriend's mother wouldn't accept them and her boyfriend's father would _punish_ him – rip him away from everyone he loved and who actually loved him – if he knew.

All the new necessary lies had just ... folded in with the old ones and she hadn't even thought about the additional mental load.

“I never worried about that for a minute, Alya,” Marinette answered at last. A few calming breaths through her nose allowed her to take in the odour of... car exhaust. Bleh. At least that brought her into the real world.

"I do have one question,” Alya began hesitantly. “Kind of awkward, though, but I think that it's pretty important."

“Ask away, Alya. I think we're way beyond awkwardness at this point.”

"Well, you've been going on a lot of ... dates, I guess, with Kagami and Adrien.”

“Yeah.” Marinette nodded, and the relief that Alya knew that they were “her” dates as well was still a warm and soothing shock that tingled everything from her heart to her extremities.

“Adrien's a pretty sensitive guy, so, uh, I guess I'm kind of worried about him.”

“What do you mean?” Was it possible that she and Kagami, who were pretty forceful on occasion, when she wasn't melting down, might ignore him and his needs? Unconsciously, she tugged at a pigtail nervously. Could her fixations and her dreams ever make her ... like Gabriel?

“Well,” Alya continued. Her hands ran slow circles around her knees and it was almost terrifying that the normally perspicacious young woman was struggling to find her words.

“It's just... didn't he like Kagami? How long are the two of you going to keep using him as cover?"

Marinette didn't mean to laugh, but she did. Uproariously.

And it felt good.

The look on Alya's face when she explained her actual relationship felt even better.

But telling the truth to someone whom she could trust? _That_ left her with the best feeling of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids have learnt the necessity of communication and openness here, which no amount of “honeyed looks” or cuddles can match, and Marinette is going to be a little bit less prone to fabricating unnecessary and convoluted lies, as she often does in canon due, in part, to the way in which her own thoughts can get away from her and the fact that she has grown accustomed to lying constantly about the "larger things." That sort of necessity can bleed into everything in your life, especially when it is combined with a martyr complex and a tendency to overthink situations. 
> 
> I very much hope that you've enjoyed the ride. Thank you for all of your engagement: reflective, insightful comments, praise, critique, kudos, and, more than anything, the simple act of reading through this story and sharing the love for this rare polyfidelious triad.
> 
> If you're interested in the identity reveal and further development of this relationship, [you can certainly read the sequel: Palates for Sweet and Sour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25325641/chapters/61404361), which takes an even more angsty turn. People have to earn their happy endings.


End file.
